the fear & horror

hola mi amigos.
andrew and i made it to oaxaca city, mexico without much trouble. adan, 3rd in our cadre of goons, arrived 5 hours after us, so drew and i secured a hotel, took a 3 hour nap, then met up with adan on the steps of the cathedral off the zocalo, the main plaza in oaxaca. it was timed perfectly. we designed ourselves better in the shower and then headed out to look for for a thanksgiving feast. we walked and walked, tantalized by the options, but never quite satisfied. we eventually settled on a cafe off the zocalo and paid a little more for the ambience. Adan and i had the chicken and rice with mole negro and coloradito (a thick chocolate-spice sauce). andrew had some tomato soup and a salty as all hell quesadilla. we toasted with Cerveza Sol, which would soon become a theme for this trip.
 
we retired to our room fairly early to rest up (we were dead tired after a full day of travel) for the next day. but somehow we got sucked into watching Muhammed Ali boxing matches, including the [rumble in the jungle} fight in africa. We were entranced and half¿zombied.
 
the 2nd day we woke up late, grabbed some breaded pastry items, and headed for a hotel where we caught a bus to Monte Alban, a Zapotec site of extraordinary breadth and ruination, just outside Oaxaca. It was a day to walk around and contemplate the history and stuff. But mostly we cant stop laughing, theres always something that catches our eyes and is need of a wise crack. I love traveling with amigos...we are like a cadre of fools let loose upon a sneaky'clean culture. we get the fear sometimes very much, but we have each other to overcome it.
 
like today we spent at least 3 hours walking around a huge outdoor market...a true labyrinth, really. The stalls are lined up and bunched together so that one second you are walking between rows and rows of dead chickens and then the next moment you are looking at baby clothing. Truly only a bout of sheer horror can fix us in our Sols...which we need on a regular basis just to manage. What i like best about Oaxaca is the flashes of utter strangeness I glimpse for just split=seconds as I turn my head in one direction, and then turn it in another direction. Theres something going on at every moment and its so small and everyday, but its so large and peculiar to the travelers eye.
 
Last night we ate at a restaurant called [el biche pobre}, which i think means the poor drink, but which i wish meant the poor bitch. shots of mezcal, the local liquor derived from the agave plant and aged in smokey barrels, were had in equal doses. our waiter had spent 4 years in L.A. painting houses before he was deported back to Oaxaca recently. He will return someday, he assured us. Also a retired German sat at the table across from us. He spoke fluent spanish, having been a trader of merchandise or something. It was hard to understand him..in fact, i didnt understand a word he said. But Andrew got bits and pieces, so he translated for me. The German was speaking English, by the way. He was retired and taking a trip through Mexico. By himself. Lonely, but he looked happy enough. And he didnt have the usual German tourist stance...i.e. where he ignores other foreigners, where he wears nothing but khakis and walks in herds. Good for him. We suggested he try the mezcal, and so he did.
 
Then later in the night we visited a nightclub with pounding disco music and projections of MTV2. Andrew and Adan kept getting me to chat up some chicas sitting across from us...they were reportedly smiling at me...but I am a coward in a situation where nobody can hear what the other is saying due to the blaring music. So we left, but it wasnt long before we walked back up the street. mind you, this was a carless street, and thus was full of throbs of people, Italian passegiata style, flooding the streets to see and be seen. Mostly young people. It was a Friday, after all. So we ended up at this Rock Club. The clientele were mostly high school and college students but the beer was cheap. The pit band soon struck up some good cover songs including Franz Ferdinand, the Crandberries (!!!), and Pink Floyd. And we were hooked. We chatted up some folks there, you might say, and danced ourselves silly, you might say. For some reason Spanish comes off my tongue so much easier when in the situation of a loud bar and many drinks in me. Que pasa? Anyhow, we retreated (literally fleeing) to our hotel room at about 1 in the morning. The night was still young, but we were not in the mood to push our luck.
 
Today many people have been either wanting our picture taken, or taking our picture indiscriminately from their cameraphones. We have got the fear and terror. Soon we must leave this place. Luckily we bought an overnight, first class bus ticket out of here, departing at 10 pm. We will sleep on the bus and arrive in Puerto Escondido at 7 am tomorrow. Thus we will begin the lazy beach bum days of our trip. I am looking forward to more wildlife, less street pandemonium.
 
Will report back soon.
Until then, rest assured of my safety and security.
and my warmth! it is in the 80s, 90s here, with warm nights. the coast is supposed to be even hotter. time to go swimming!
it feels like summer down here, despite the omnipresent sales of plastic christmas trees.
 
with fear, love and sheer horror,
Chuck
 
p.s. for those naysayers telling me Oaxaca is still a dangerous place to be. Well, all i can say is I feel real safe here. No troubles. No outbreaks of violence. No shady business. It may be dangerous on an underground level, but its safe here.