THERE IS SOMETHING WORTH MENTIONING HERE AND NOW. EARLY ON 
HIROKO SUGGESTED THAT IF I WANTED PEOPLE TO READ THIS BLOG THAT 
I SHOULD CONSIDER MAKING IT MORE CONCISE. WHEN I TOLD HER THAT I 
WAS WRITING IT FOR ME AND FOR MY OLDER SISTER SANDA ARONSON, A 
TALENTED ARTIST HERSELF 
(http://www.artistlightbox.com/sandaaronson), WHO IS TAKING THIS 
TRIP WITH US THROUGH MY WORDS AND PHOTOS. I WAS WILLING TO SHARE 
MY RECOLLECTIONS WITH OTHERS, BUT IF "SIMI" WAS NOT FOLLOWING 
THIS AS CLOSELY AS SHE HAS BEEN, I MIGHT NOT BE BLOGGING THIS 
EVERY DAY, OR BEING AS VERBOSE. HERE'S TO YOU SISTER.

(c)2008 Howard Blum. All rights reserved worldwide. 
http://faces-and-places.net

Epilogue:

It was a total of 8,076 miles driven over the 60 days that we 
were gone from home. If nothing else this trip has forever 
altered my perception of Mexico, the Mexican people, Mexican 
politics and the pervasive stereotypes perpetuated by the so-
called free and open mainstream media in the United States. 

Like it or not Mexico, much like the USA, is stratified with the 
perceived minorities on the bottom of the socio-economic 
pyramid. There remains the influence of the European looking 
people that are usually at the top of the pyramid and then 
various strata in between

In my mind there are multiple Mexicos. There is the coastal 
beach resort Mexico that 'gringos' frequent and then think they 
have been to Mexico. Not!!!!! This includes Cabo, Mazitlan, 
Puerta Vallarta, Puerto Escondido, Acapulco or Cancun, to name 
a few. The only thing these places have in common with the 
interior of Mexico is the language. 

A second Mexico is the isolated enclaves of 'Gringos' in places 
like San Miguel Allende and Lake Chapala, near Mexico's second 
largest city, Guadalajara. These enclaves have many English-
speaking people living there and they think they are living in 
Mexico, when they are in enclaves that more closely resemble 
Norte America Sud.

A third Mexico is the boarder towns along Texas, Arizona and New 
Mexico. This is where most of the violence and drug-related wars 
and murders are happening. We drove through Nogales heading 
south and Piedra Negra heading north without even a hint of an 
inceident.

The "Heart of Mexico" is in the heartland of the country. This 
country is rich in culture, tradition and art. In spite of being 
"oversold" (in my humble opinion) on Catholicism and 
Christianity, the people are warm, friendly and outgoing. If you 
treat them with respect and dignity they all respond in kind. 
All you have to do is try to communicate with them in their 
language.

I have heard more people than I care to count that forewarned us 
of doing this trip, of the horror stories of police brutality 
and corruption, of road banditos that would carjack us, of all 
manner of misfortune that would befall us if we made this trip. 
Nothing even remotely resembling anything negative ever very 
happened to us save driving through Mexico City's traffic 
gridlock. We did avoid going to Mexico City due to forewarnings 
of bad things that could happen to us there. I am now thinking 
that those warnings might be overblown, just like the rumors 
that circulate about how bad driving in Mexico is.

Many of the highways in CA are considerably worse than the 
highways in Mexico. The drivers in Mexico are far better and 
more considerate drivers than their counterparts in the USA. 
Drivers there actually keep to the right of the road, pass on 
the left and then move back into the right lane, immediately! I 
saw only one passenger vehicle accident in Mexico in more than 
50 days in the country and I saw no truck accidents. In the two 
days of driving across Texas and the two days driving across NM 
and AZ, I saw many truck accidents and a few car accidents. 

Do not listen to the warnings about personal safety in Mexico. 
Like any metropolitan are in the United States you might travel 
to, you need to exercise an element of common sense and good 
judgment when being someplace unfamiliar. Having said all that I 
felt safer in al of Mexico than I do at times when I go to 
Oakland or parts of San Francisco. I am very much looking 
forward to my return to Mexico soon.


Fri. 31 Oct. 2008, Day 60 away from home: Happy Halloween!

I had a difficult time trying to sleep our last night on the 
road. I was actually dreaming about our bed at one point during 
the night. I was up early and often. At 4:00 AM local time 
(which was 5:00 in Albuquerque and a typical wake-up time for 
me) and I could not go back to sleep. At 4:30 I got up and out 
of bed and I went to the laptop to fight the boredom until 
Hiroko got up and we left for home.
 
At 4:40 Hiroko asks me what time it was and after I told her and 
asked if she'd like to hit the road. She said it was too early. 
By five she changed her mind and she was in the shower while I 
was packing and making ready for the final leg of the trip to 
home.
 
The Holiday Inn Express Breakfast was set up very early. I began 
loading the car at 5:30 and the breakfast buffet was already set 
up. We already had one cup of coffee under our belts in the room 
and Hiroko had made another pot of our coffee to take with us in 
the car. After the car was fully loaded we went to the breakfast 
buffet for something to fill our stomachs before we headed out. 
I burnt the first two mini-bagels to a crisp as I put them in 
the toaster and then took another load of stuff to the car. I 
tried it again while remaining in close proximity and did not 
burn it a second time, with Hiroko's help. 
 
The scrambled eggs were bearable. The bacon was undercooked, 
greasy and generally tough to get down, so I did not do more 
than one or two pieces. I could not bear to finish the scrambled 
eggs. I did eat my mini bagel with some cream cheese and we were 
off and running just before six. 
 
For the most part the road was clear and it was still dark. I 
decided to drive until it got light and then let Hiroko drive 
for a while, while I did some writing and some market related 
work. This worked out fine although I was not happy with it 
starting to rain as Hiroko began to drive. It was a windy 
mountainous road and the roadway was slick in spots. Even though 
we were in an all-wheel drive vehicle, I was a bit uncomfortable 
with the road conditions and at one point I asked Hiroko to slow 
down as I could feel the car losing traction on some of the 
curves. I would guess that there aren't to many people that have 
been on the Mohave Desert when it was raining, but there we 
were.
 
The road was tricky until we got to Bakersfield and then it was 
a straight shot to Interstate 5 and a straight shot to the Bay 
Area from there. Of course as we approached Santa Nella on I-5, 
we were looking forward to having Anderson's famous pea soup as 
our final stop before hitting home. I resisted munching in the 
car on the way there so I could have a lot of soup, and I did. 
For $8.50 you can get a bottomless bowl of their soup along with 
bread and a beverage. I consumed two and a half bowls of soup 
along with one of their onion topped dinner buns and some tea. 
Hiroko did not quite finish her first bowl. We waddled out, got 
the gas tank topped off and we were running on the road again 
just after eleven in the morning.
 
Leaving Barstow at 6:00 AM got us into the Bay Area in the very 
early afternoon. The last thing we wanted, after two months on 
the road, was to sit in Friday afternoon bumper-to-bumper Bay 
Area traffic. We made it to the Eastern Contra Costa County by 
shortly after 1:00 PM and we were in Novato by 2:15 PM. 
 
The first thing we did in our home town was to go to the Post 
Office and pick up two months of held mail for the house and my 
business PO Box. It was two baskets full of stuff, including our 
absentee ballots for the elections. Second stop was Massimo's 
Cafˇ to try and get a cup of good coffee and say hello to my 
friend Gary. He closed early that day for some reason. We got 
home, unloaded the car and then did some unpacking, reorganizing 
and rearranging as Peter, our house-sitter, rearranged the 
furniture a bit.
 
It did not take very long to slip right back into a near normal 
routine for being at home. We could not help but comment that it 
did not feel like we were gone for two months. That would change 
the moment we got into bed to go to sleep on our plush mattress. 
 
Hiroko did a grocery run for some needed items. We still had our 
own lettuce and ripe tomatoes in the back yard and that was 
great for our dinner, as we needed a good salad. Hiroko also had 
to get some candy for the trick or treaters, as it was Halloween 
and there are many kids on our street. Even though recent years 
had been disappointing for trick or treaters and it was raining 
I'd prefer to be prepared for the kids. As it turned out we had 
many kids ring the bell this Halloween. 
 
I lit up the fireplace, we smoked a number and it was personal 
lights out early back at home. This was a long and wonderful 
trip. I am looking forward to doing it again in perhaps ten 
weeks from now as we are really thinking hard of going to 
Queretaro, a couple of hours drive north of Mexico City. I know 
it is a 1,915-mile drive from Novato to Mexico City. At 600 
miles per day that would be a three-day drive to Queretaro. 
Humm.

Thu. 30 Oct. 2008, Day 59 away from home:
 
If the drive on Monday was a "hump day" then today was a "Super 
Hump Day." We were ambitiously planning on trying a 700-mile 
drive today from Albuquerque, NM to Barstow, CA. We have done a 
700-mile twice before and once was not by choice. 
 
Our first 700-mile drive was from home to Moab, UT back in the 
early 1990's and we did it in our Honda Accord. That was a ten-
day road trip that covered about 2,200 miles. I guess we are 
just as crazy some fifteen years later. The second 700-miler was 
not by choice. In driving into Nevada we had expected to find a 
place to stay in the middle of the Nevada desert only to not 
find any rooms and had to drive all the way past Las Vegas to 
Bullhead City across the Hoover Damn from Nevada before finding 
a room. Even Vegas was almost full as it was spring break, but 
we did not realize that when we planed this spring road trip.
 
Our fallback position for today was to stay in Needles, CA, 
which was about 125 miles closer to Albuquerque than Barstow. 
The drive might have been a bit easier if I did not have an 8:30 
AM meeting at our apartment house in Albuquerque and another 
meeting at the complex at 9:15 AM. Of course, our 9:15 AM 
appointment was late and at 9:35 AM  I was ready to leave when I 
got a call from the woman's office that she was on the way. At 
9:40 I had the car turned on, running and just about to drive 
off the property when the ditzy lady showed up. The second 
meeting with the ditzy lady proved to be a complete waste of my 
time.
 
So, we got off our property at 10:00 AM and were still 
determined to make the long drive. We would be aided by passing 
into an earlier time zone, but any way you slice it, a drive of 
700-miles is a long one. We decided we would only stop for gas 
and for relieving normal body functions. We were on our way and 
I was loving the 75 miles per hour speed limit, often locking 
down the cruise control at ninety. It can make a long drive much 
quicker that way. 
 
We stopped once at a truck stop in AZ and after filling one tank 
and emptying another we stopped at a fast food place and I got 
some Charlie's Chicken. It was crispy, greasy and barely 
palatable, but it did what it needed to do: stop the hunger 
pangs. Unlike in Mexico, we were sharing the drive back on the 
USA highways and I got to catch up on my blogging and writing 
while Hiroko drove.
 
We stopped again near Lake Havasu, AZ, a party town and lake if 
there ever was one. I have heard it is an awesome spring break 
getaway for young folks. I topped off the gas tank and got a 
green salad with some chicken. I was tempted by the 
advertisement for the salad saying it was 100% romaine lettuce. 
It wasn't bad. I woofed down some before I started to drive, and 
then Hiroko literally fed the rest to me while I was cruising 
down the highway at ninety.
 
Shortly after leaving the rest stop at the Lake Havasu, we came 
up to the CA agricultural inspection station at the boarder with 
AZ. The guy that was the "official" there was kind of funny. 
When I pulled up to the stop with my window down he just said to 
me, "Lake Havasu, right?" and I just replied Albuquerque. He 
smiled and waved me on without a single question. What if I was 
smuggling in fruit and veggies from AZ or NM?
 
When we were sure we could make it to Barstow I called the 
Holiday Inn Express reservation line and made a reservation for 
that evening at the Internet rate. We got to Barstow just as it 
was turning dark. Every now and then the GPS navigator gets it 
wrong and this time it took us in the wrong direction on West 
Main Street in Barstow. It did not take us very long to figure 
out there was something wrong and we turned off the GPS, made a 
u-turn and found the hotel quickly. We got to the front desk at 
about 6:30 PM, which is 7:30 PM in New Mexico. We made a 700-
mile drive in nine and a half hours. Do the math and you know 
how fast we were driving if we stopped five times to either 
change driving positions or fill (or empty) tanks. 

We got to the front desk just after some dude on a Harley was 
busy checking in. I was tired and perhaps a bit cranky after all 
that time and distance in the car. There was a very pleasant 
young lady named Kelly that kept looking over to me and 
reassured me that she would be right with us. She had a pleasant 
smile and delightful tone to her voice and I waited patiently 
after I went to the restroom to empty my bladder. I should not 
have had that 22-ounce sprite with the Charlie's chicken. It 
wanted out!
 
We got into the room and I went online to check my email and 
then to look for someplace to eat. My first attempt at Googling 
restaurants in Barstow brought up nothing but fast food 
restaurants. That is faux food to me, so I continued to search. 
I came up with a list of half a dozen restaurants that were 
supposed to be on Main Street and we drove down the street. 
Hiroko said the place across from the hotel called Bob's Buns 
was okay with her, but it wasn't okay for me. 
 
We drove a long way on Main Street and I saw nothing worth 
eating at using my yardstick except a Mexican restaurant named 
Rosarita's. I told Hiroko if we did not see anything soon, we 
would go back to Rosarita's. We came up to an auto parts store, 
The Auto Zone and I pulled into the parking lot and I went 
inside. My convertible in the garage at home has had the battery 
disconnected for two months and had to be totally dead. My 
friend Pierre, the automotive mechanic (hobbyist) advised me to 
use a battery charger on the car when I get home, so I bought 
one in Barstow. It is better than either having the car jump 
started and then drive to my mechanic and leave the car there 
for four to six hours to charge or worse, jump start it and then 
burn out the alternator as it tries too hard to charge the 
battery. The alternator is original equipment and the 
convertible has over 125,000 miles on it.
 
With charger in the back seat we drove back to Rosarita's 
Mexican Restaurant. The meal was surprisingly good and we ate 
our fill. We were back in the room and crashed fairly quickly, 
although the sleep was anything but sound.

Wed. 29 Oct. 2008, Day 58 away from home:
 
I was awake much too early this morning. My body clock had me up 
at 6:00 AM. Unfortunately, that is Central Time Zone and I am 
now in the Mountain Time Zone so it is five in the morning and 
Hiroko is still in bed and asleep, I think. 
 
I went downstairs and turned on the theater of the absurd again. 
I cannot believe that CNN keeps a countdown clock in the lower 
right corner of the screen counting down the days, hours, 
minutes and seconds until the first polling places close on 
Election Day, November 4th. I fired up my computer and began to 
do some stuff, not including blogging. I seemed to have fallen 
out of that mode after leaving Austin and essentially I have 
been in either a business or "Road Warrior" mode. 
 
Our political process has degenerated to the absurd when North 
Carolina incumbent Senator Dole runs a television commercial 
falsely accusing her female Democratic opponent of being 
"godless." No shit! Boy is this country in trouble if that crap 
can fly on television from a sitting United States Senator. I 
think I'd prefer someone godless as a candidate and office 
holder to one that lies so blatantly, distorts the truth and has 
no reservations about making up untrue things about an opponent 
having nothing whatsoever to do with some of the very important 
and pressing issues facing this country.  I guess some 
Republicans understand just how badly this administration has 
devastated our national economy and the country's global stature 
and cannot talk about anything else but nonsense in their 
campaigns. 
 
I made ready to take the car to the dealership for a much needed 
oil change after over 6,000 miles driven since the last change. 
It had been decided that I would drop Hiroko off at a nearby 
Starbucks so she could do her Internet thing while I was at the 
dealership having the oil changed. I suggested we give some  
thought of something to do for the afternoon since there was 
nothing on our plate since my business meetings were not 
happening until the evening at the earliest, I asked Hiroko for 
some suggestions.  
 
We got to Starbucks and I ordered us some coffee and then went 
to work on getting Hiroko online for the two hours I expected to 
be gone. After a couple of gaffs and "work-arounds" I got her 
online and I was off to the Subaru dealership. After I got back 
to Starbucks to pick up Hiroko, we were off to Santa Fe, just 
over a one-hour drive away. I hadn't really checked the real 
estate market there the last time I was in town, so of we went.
 
We got to town and pulled into a strip shopping center where we 
saw a Trader Joes and got some coffee and other items we needed 
for the road and our suite in Albuquerque. After Joes, we headed 
downtown and we parked near the plaza with the aid of our 
computerized GPS. For the first time in months we need to feed a 
parking meter and it was a good thing we had a fist full of 
quarters for two hours of parking. We walked around looking for 
a place to eat and came across the outdoor tables in front of 
the Restaurant at the Anasazi Hotel. It looked like a cool 
place, so we went inside and checked out the menu. The salad 
offerings looked good, so we asked to be seated outdoors.
 
The meal, which included a salad and a Buffalo Burger, was good 
and we finished and then walked off some of the meal around d 
the plaza. We visited a few art galleries and saw some sidewalk 
offerings of craft people. I was an interesting but simple 
copper bracelet and Hiroko bought it for me. After that we 
walked for a while longer and I then saw a Starbucks down the 
street, so we headed that way. As we approached Starbucks we 
notice a guy out in front of the coffee shop playing some good 
blues alone. He was blowing a good blues harp, playing the 
guitar and he had a tambourine he was using with his foot. It 
was a very creative setup that made for some great music.
 
We went inside and got some coffee (forgetting to use the 
rewards card we got just hours earlier in Albuquerque for free 
internet access) and I got into the nice appearance of the 
interior of this store with the bare brick walls.  An old hippy 
chick with wild frizzy hair was seated next to the brick wall 
having coffee and the sight caught my attention, so I snapped 
some photos while she was not looking. I then told Hiroko I was 
going outside to hear the music man playing his blues. 
 
I was outside enjoying his music and I attempted to take a photo 
of him and he objected. I said no problem and I gave him a tip 
of two bucks in his hat on the ground, as I was enjoying his 
music. He softened his stance after I gave him the money and I 
snapped a single photo of him at work and then squatted down to 
listen to him. He was really good. After a while he explained to 
me that some people tried to take a hundred photos of him for a 
fifty-cent tip and he objected to that stuff. I said I if he did 
not want me to take any more photos of him I was fine with that 
and we began to talk about music, blues and the old blues 
greats. 
 
After a while other people came by, enjoyed his music and left 
some money in his hat. A youngster of about eight came by and 
got a buck from his mom so he could leave it in the hat. I 
thought that was very special. After a while Dave, the music 
man, told me to go ahead and shoot some more photos if I wanted 
after I asked him if he had a CD I could buy. He said he did not 
have any with him, but said if I gave him my card he'd send on 
to me. I said send me an email with his full name and address 
and I would send him a check for whatever the cost was for his 
CD. He said he'd send it right away and I could pay him when I 
got it.
 
So, I began to take more photos of him and told him I would send 
the photos to him and he could use one or all of them if he 
would like for his next album cover. He was agreeable to that. 
So I was outside for about fifteen minutes listening to the 
music and interacting with Dave when Hiroko came out after 
finishing her coffee. We made our way back to the car for our 
return trip to Albuquerque.
 
Back at our room I filled time with CNN and the net and waited 
for Robert, our property manager there, to call me when he 
landed. I had made plans to meet another property manager at the 
Second Street Apartments to discuss management stuff for that 
property with her. That was supposed to happen at 5:30 PM and 
Robert's flight was supposed to arrive from El Paso at 6:30, 
which was fine. However, Robert called me just as I was about to 
leave for the apartments to tell me his plane had landed 
already. I called the other party and moved our appointment to 
9:15 AM the following morning.
 
Robert came by, met Hiroko and we all chatted for a bit when I 
jumped in and suggested we went out to talk business. Hiroko 
usually does not like to take part in those things. Robert and I 
went out and he suggested to go to his office and I suggested 
that we go eat. We talked about a lot of things and accomplished 
a lot. I was back in the room before long and it was CNN and 
sleep.

Tue. 28 Oct. 2008, Day 57 away from home:

Well, it was a good night's sleep without the aid of pills. We 
had lots of time as we had less than a three hundred mile drive 
to Albuquerque and we were spending two nights there.  We went 
down to the hotel restaurant and we had a full breakfast. I was 
trying to get back into a normal routine as we were approaching 
home, so I had a bowl of oatmeal, dry wheat toast and coffee. It 
will take me a couple of days to wean myself off coffee and get 
back to my usual beverage of a cup of hot water with wedges of 
lemon and lime.
 
So we were off to Albuquerque and there was a good deal of 
construction going on all across Interstate 40 across New 
Mexico. There were some stretches where you had to drive as 
slowly as the large trucks in single lane formation as one side 
of the Interstate was closed for road work, so both directions 
shared on side of the freeway at reduced speed. When I am on the 
road I want to fly (with my wheels on the ground) so I can get 
to my destination sooner. 
 
We got to Albuquerque and I first got off the Interstate to 
empty my very full bladder. I drank too much coffee and hot 
water this morning. Afterwards we got back on the road and I 
turned off to take a shortcut to our units in this town, but 
blew that one completely. I settled for driving to the Subaru 
dealership that I had been before to see if I could get an 
instant oil change while we waited. The service manager said yes 
and no. Yes, they could do it, but no, not this afternoon. I 
made an appointment for nine the next morning. 
 
We got to Old Town Albuquerque fairly early and we unloaded the 
car and settled into this town house style accommodation thanks 
to Robert. I had a bit of bad news that afternoon. I was 
planning on meeting with our property manager for the apartments 
we own there and Robert was away in El Paso on business and 
unable to move that property inspection, so we could not meet 
until Wednesday afternoon. Hiroko and I decided to walk around 
Old Town looking for a good meal. We looked at several Mexican 
restaurants, but they did not have any descent salads and 
nothing that really grabbed my fancy.
 
There was a restaurant menu on the kitchen table in our 
room/apartment from a place called Seasons that was just north 
of the plaza in Old Town. At the time I did not recall the name, 
but I took the menu with us as we were out and about looking for 
a restaurant as it had the address on it. As we were walking 
back towards our place I saw the Seasons restaurant and 
instantly remembered the exterior. I had been there before on 
one of my business trips to this city and the food was great! We 
went in.
 
The food was good, my gin was good as usual, Hiroko's wine and 
salad were good and it was a great meal. After we ate it was a 
short walk back to our place. I had decided to go off to the 
casino for a bit of diversion (the Latin root of that word, and 
its meaning in Spanish means fun or entertainment). I had not 
gone more than a couple of hours and Hiroko was already in bed 
and asleep, I think. It was not long before I joined her in bed.

Mon. 27 Oct. 2008, Day 56 away from home:
 
Monday was one of those "hump" days people tend to go through 
after a long road trip. We were in Austin in the morning after a 
beautiful day in the Capitol of Texas and our next stop on our 
way to Albuquerque, NM was Amarillo, TX. That is a drive of over 
five hundred miles!
 
We had a map from the AAA auto club that had shown the route 
going into New Mexico as all superhighway from Albuquerque to 
the international boarder, skirting Forth Worth, TX. For 
whatever reason I chose to take a different route. My search on 
the Internet and my TomTom One navigator depicted a route that 
was supposed to be more direct and faster. It was also a route 
that would give us a view of much more of the central Texas 
countryside.
 
The route took us through Abilene, Lubbock and then into 
Amarillo. The drive was reasonably uneventful and there were 
only a handful of road construction projects that delayed us. 
One delay was a tractor-trailer truck loaded with pumpkins which 
was on it side on the road with the cab mangled and pumpkins all 
over the road. There was a small bobcat on the scene scooping up 
the pumpkins and transferring them into a garbage truck. In our 
nearly two months in Mexico, we never saw a large truck involved 
in an accident and yet in our second day back in the USA we see 
one completely demolished on a roadway with no other vehicle 
involved in the accident. I brought it up because recently US 
truck drivers in the southern boarder states with Mexico were 
demonstrating because of their perceived dangers from Mexican 
drivers and how if we let Mexican registered large trucks on US 
roads it would endanger people's lives. The demolished truck on 
the road had Texas registration plates on it. I guess that is 
another subtle form of racism.
 
So we were driving through a small town on Texas State Highway 
84 called Brownwood. I needed to do some computer stuff (and 
some bladder stuff), so when I see a Holiday Inn I pulled into 
the parking lot, go inside and ask if I could use the bathroom. 
I asked they young lady behind the front desk how long of a 
drive it was to Abilene and she said, "I have never been there, 
but it is a good three hours." I thanked her, did my business 
and then went back to the car. In the car I did my Internet 
stuff, we pulled into the gas station down the street to top off 
the tank and we were on our way. Gas is really cheap in Texas. 
Do you know that more than 40% of the nation's gasoline refining 
capacity is in the Lone Star State?
 
Somewhere between Brownwood and Abilene we began to see cotton 
fields. Lots and lots of cotton fields. Hundreds of miles of 
cotton fields as far as the eye could see. We also began to see 
those free-standing oil pumping things that reminded me of a 
praying mantis. At times the air was heavy with the smell of 
crude oil as we drove through the Texas countryside. 
 
We got to Amarillo before dark and we were pleased with 
ourselves for driving so fast without getting any tickets. We 
got to our hotel and we checked in. We were given a ground floor 
room when the place had four floors. The ground floor was not my 
first choice, but we went to check out the room. We drove around 
to the back of the hotel and parked at the entrance we were 
supposed to. We got out and Hiroko started to unload the car. 
For the first time on this trip I told her I wanted to check out 
the room before we began to unload the car.
 
When we got to the room I found it was across the hall from a 
very noisy ice machine. We went into the room and closed the 
door. I walked towards where the bed was and I listened. I could 
hear the noise from the ice machine in the daytime. I found that 
noises tended to get amplified when you were trying to sleep. 
With the noisy refrigerator in our apartment in Oaxaca still on 
my mind I told Hiroko the room was not acceptable to me. I went 
off towards the front desk with a full head of steam and at a 
very brisk pace. I got to the front desk and simply said the 
room was across from a very noisy machine and not acceptable to 
me. I was given a choice of rooms on the third floor and chose 
one that was fine with us. We unloaded the car.
 
We puttered around a bit, I got my closing financial market 
numbers and then we started to discuss dinner. I saw a few 
Japanese steak houses on the Internet and we figured we'd drive 
towards them and if we did not see anything appealing along the 
way, we'd end up there. We saw a Texas Roadhouse Restaurant and 
we went in. We were seated rather quickly. The hostess asked us, 
"Non-smoking or wait?" We were seated right away. There are 
still a lot of smokers in Texas.
 
We got into an interesting conversation with our server Crystal 
who was from Minnesota (I think) and had been in Amarillo for 
only three months. I still have the urge to pronounce the name 
of this town like the Spanish-speaking people do. Phonetically 
it is pronounced "ama-rrrio" and means yellow in Spanish. 
Anyway, we enjoyed the meal, the conversation, the drink and we 
made it back to the room and we were asleep before long. Next 
up, the drive to Albuquerque. 

Sun. 26 Oct. 2008, Day 55 away from home:
 
In retrospect, with all due respect to my ancestry, our stopover 
in San Antonio was a wasted day. It is okay though. If it wasn't 
for that outstanding turkey drumstick, it would have been a 
totally wasted day. 
 
There was no urgency to get out and rush the short hop to 
Austin, so we took our time. We each puttered around in our 
computers. I think Hiroko was searching for things to do in 
Austin that might interest us. I was just mostly doing stuff, 
planning our next night's stay and checking out route maps and 
alternate driving plans. 
 
We finally got around to going downstairs and getting our free 
dose of indigestion and cholesterol at the Holiday Inn Express 
buffet. After that we went back to the room, finished packing 
and loaded the car for the less than ninety-minute drive to 
Austin. I was looking forward to seeing my cousin again and 
meeting his wife Grace and their two children for the first 
time.
 
We got to town about noonish and check into the hotel. We 
unpacked a few things and made our way to downtown Austin. We 
were in search of a descent salad and the TomTom navigator told 
us where to find McCormick & Schmick in downtown, so off we 
went. It was about a twenty-minute drive from the hotel. Along 
the way we passed a very impressive looking Whole Foods Market. 
 
Before long we found ourselves in the Warehouse District of 
Austin and finding a parking space was difficult. I could not 
believe we had so much difficulty finding a parking space in 
downtown early on a Sunday afternoon. While driving around 
looking for a spot I happened to see a restaurant boasting of 
stone crabs. Since I hadn't had any of those since my last visit 
to Florida, I believed I had found an alternate lunch site. 
 
I found a parking space, we parked and we walked the block or so 
to McCormick & Schmick only to find it closed. We went to my 
backup and it too was closed. I gave up and I turned to head 
back to the car. Hiroko said Sixth Street was supposed to be the 
happening place in downtown Austin and asked if I'd like to go 
there. However, after what we just went through I said okay, but 
let's drive there. In my mind if everything was closed, we could 
just drive past it and go on to something or somewhere else. We 
saw stuff open, even though the streets were mostly deserted, so 
I parked the car at the first available curbside spot. 
 
As we walked down Sixth Street we saw the typical type of 
touristy junk stores, some seedy bars, taverns and eateries that 
were not at all appealing to us, although some of them were very 
entertaining and amusing. Of course as with most downtown urban 
areas, Austin had its sprinkling of street urchins. We did a 
loop of about five blocks down and then four blocks back and 
stepped into a Starbucks on the corner of Congress and Sixth to 
get some coffee. While drinking our coffee we decided to head 
towards the Capitol Building at the head of the Congress Street.
 
Walking down the street we saw what looked to me like a very 
interesting art project in a ground floor space and we went in. 
It was called the Arthouse at the Jones Center Renovation and 
Capital Campaign at 700 
Congress.  It was filled with very innovative mixed medium 
artwork mostly electronic based. Some were interactive and some 
were just for viewing. I very much enjoyed this small venue 
giving young artists a place to exhibit their stuff of non-
mainstream artworks. 
 
We continued to walk towards the dome and I was enjoying viewing 
the visual contrast between the old buildings and the new high-
rise towers going up. It made for some interesting photos. 
 
When we got about three blocks from the Capitol Building with 
its traditional and well-preserved dome piercing the insanely 
blue cloudless sky, we saw the Austin Museum of Art and we 
crossed the street and went inside. We got a senior citizen 
discount for being over 55. What the hell, we saved half the 
price of a Latte. The museum was great with a mix of classic 
paintings, contemporary photography and art of differing mediums 
and I enjoyed it all, albeit it is a small venue. 
 
I walked into the museum with my camera around my neck and was 
promptly told no photography inside. We went inside and after 
looking around for a bit I went back to the entrance and asked 
if I could photograph parts of the building carefully avoiding 
photographing any of the artwork. They said no and I respected 
their position. We got an eyeful of good art and made our way 
back to the car. I called cousin Steve and asked if it was okay 
if we came by about an hour early and he said sure. 
 
On the way to the Holzman home we once again passed by the Whole 
Foods Market only this time we stopped. We wanted to fill some 
more time and also wanted to see this expansive store that was 
considerably larger than any of their markets in CA or the ones 
I have been to in the Dallas area. This one is also apparently 
corporate headquarters and they also give cooking lessons, have 
restaurant type bars and just so much more than anything they 
offer in CA. Now I am jealous!
 
After looking in almost every major supermarket and housewares 
store in Mexico for a plastic funnel to hold those Molita paper 
coffee filters and not finding any, we saw them in this Whole 
Foods market and bought one even though our trip was nearly at 
an end. For $2.99 it was so much easier to brew a cup of coffee 
with that than the large round funnel we had been using for lack 
of anything else available. We also got a bottle of wine and 
some snack stuff. The bottle of wine we kept for ourselves and 
gave Steven a good bottle of Argentinean wine we had bought in 
Mexico. We hate coming to dinner empty handed. We also bought 
some limes, which came in very handy later on for my gin and 
tonics.
 
The Holzman home is at the end of a cul-de-sac in a very upscale 
neighborhood and it is gorgeous. The property is backed up to 
open space and the deer come right onto the property. The 
children were well behaved and it was a great evening of 
catching up with Steve and Grace and their meeting Hiroko and we 
all shared a bit of personal histories. I got snagged into 
playing a game of Monopoly with Arthur, named after his 
grandfather. Arthur, an eight-year old, is obsessive about the 
game of monopoly or at least he was with someone new to play 
against. Edith, their six-year old daughter was hiding at first 
and soon became my best buddy. 
 
The dinner made Hiroko's day because it was hamburger and she is 
a burger fiend and had not had one since we left home. It was 
accompanied by salad, couscous and venison sausage from Steven's 
hunting prowess. I asked if he bagged it in the backyard and he 
said no. After dinner we spent some time together in the family 
room and then it was time for Grace to put the children to 
sleep, as tomorrow was a school day.
 
Just prior to leaving, Steven and I sat down at the kitchen 
table and went through what turned out to be more than an hour 
of my recollections of our family history. Steven was interested 
in putting together a family tree and his older sister Audrey 
had no recall of any of the family details I seemed to have at 
the ready. I surprised myself at the amount of information that 
I had stored in the deep recesses of my memory when I literally 
did a "brain dump" of information. 
 
It was getting late and Hiroko and I were beginning to tire and 
we knew we had a five hundred mile drive ahead of us in the 
morning. It was a perfectly delightful evening with family not 
seen in far too long. We made our way back to the hotel, I 
watched the last inning of Game four of the World Series (that 
is baseball if you don't know) and went to sleep.

Sat. 25 Oct. 2008, Day 54 away from home, day 52 in country:

Last night was one of the worst night's sleep in our entire trip 
in Mexico. No doubt it was a combination of high anxiety and 
drama, a crappy bed, too much alcohol consumed the night before 
and a mind racing through what would become and be remembered 
the best trip in our personal history.  This cute bump in our 
road history will soon fade into the recesses of my failing 
short-term memory neuron synapses and the great and very fond 
memories will endure for the rest of my life.
 
I was awake at about four in the morning and could not go back 
so sleep. So, I was at the laptop in the dark, trying very hard 
to let Hiroko sleep through as best she could. I got lots 
accomplished and this was good. When Hiroko finally got out of 
bed at seven or so we packed, showered and were on the road 
before nine in the morning. Next Stop: Immigration, Customs and 
the wait at the US Boarder. 
 
It was a straight high-speed drive on a two-lane road straight 
to Pedras Negras, just across the Rio Grande (that is not so 
grande anymore) and Eagle Pass, Texas. The visual differeneces 
were immediate and unmistakable. As we are sitting on the bridge 
going over the Rio Grand, having paid our final road toll in 
Mexico of 23-Pesos, we looked at the North American side and see 
golf carts scurrying around a fairly flat golf course. The 
course was well groomed and maintained and the grass was very 
green. That was something I do not recalling anywhere in Mexico. 
I know they are there as I've played golf before in Mexico, I 
just did not notice them at all on this trip. 
 
Compared to what I have had to endure returning through the 
Tijuana-San Diego crossing this fifteen-minute delay was 
nothing. We were prepared for the appropriate questioning from 
the boarder guard/agent. We had our few pieces of fruit in a 
plastic bag ready for inspection. He confiscated the orange and 
tangerine and we got to keep the two limes. He asked if we had 
any medications with us and I told him the only ones were the 
prescription ones we had left home with. He asked, "From a 
Doctor?" and I nodded yes. We were quickly on our way. 
 
One of the first things we noticed when crossing the boarder 
(after the very green golf course), was that the price of 
gasoline in Texas being about $2.00 per gallon less than where 
it was when we left CA some seven weeks ago.
 
My computerized GPS navigator began to work within about a mile 
of the boarder on tne Mexican side. After that Hiroko was able 
to put her map case aside and not worry about being our cockpit 
navigator for the rest of the trip. We had already plotted the 
address of our hotel in San Antonio into the navigator and we 
were on the way.
 
Our trip was briefly interrupted by another group of boarder 
inspectors at a roadblock s mile or two away from the boarder. 
These guys were looking for drugs, illegal entrants that may 
have been hiding in the vehicle at the primary immigration 
checkpoint at the boarder and they had one of those sniffing dog 
with them. After that it was traffic free high speed driving in 
Southeastern Texas. If nothing else, we amused ourselves by 
figuring out who was a native Mexican driver versus who was a 
Texan. Contrary to what you might believe, we found the Mexican 
drivers to be much better than the average American driver on 
our highways. This goes double so for the truck drivers - of all 
size trucks.
 
In Mexico on a two lane highway (one traffic lane in each 
direction) if you come up on the rear of a slower moving car 
they will pull over and drive on the shoulder to give you a 
better opportunity to pass them, even if there is a double 
yellow line in the center of the road suggesting no passing 
allowed there. This is a universal driving method that I quickly 
adapted for passing and being passed. I am almost never the 
fastest driver on the road unless I am separated from my 
passport and money.
 
Since you cannot always see around large trucks, the drivers 
have some subtle ways of telling you if it is safe to pass them 
or not-with or without double lines in the road. If it is not 
safe to pass them because of oncoming traffic (whether or not it 
is allowed by the lane markings), they hug the centerline of the 
roadway making it much more difficult for you to see around them 
or pass them safely. When it is safe to pass them, double-center 
lines or not, they pull over onto the right shoulder of the road 
and turn on their left directional signal indicating it is now 
safe to pass them. The universal road language was easy to 
follow and I learned it quickly and also employed it when I was 
driving. 
 
So here we are back in Texas and the Mexican drivers are driving 
as though they are still on the other side of the boarder. I 
tell Hiroko that I need to rapidly reacclimatize myself to 
driving back in the USA and refrain from passing over double 
yellow lines. Some of the drivers going faster than I was 
driving were obvious Mexican drivers when they totally ignored 
the double yellow lines and passed us anyway. 
 
I have one final thought on most Mexican drivers. They are very 
courteous drivers (except the ones in the cities with traffic 
congestion and are frustrated) and very safe drivers. In the 
more than 5,500 miles driven in Mexico on this trip we did not 
see more than two fender-bender type accidents. We did not see a 
single injury or fatal car, bus or truck accident. On any given 
day on CA I can see more accidents on the roads than I have seen 
in nearly two months in Mexico. Yes, there were some old drivers 
and fearful drivers that get into their lane and stay there and 
block others from passing or going faster, but that was the 
exception rather than the rule. Drivers in Mexico automatically 
pass in the left lane and then move back into the right lane so 
others can pass them if they choose to. Most of the bastards on 
US roads get in the left lane and do not get out of the way of 
others driving faster and (in my humble opinion) they are the 
cause of road rage and the many accidents we have on our 
roadways when they force people to pass them on the right. 
 
Okay, we got to San Antonio without a hitch and the navigator 
took us to the front door of the hotel. I love my techno-toys. 
We checked into a spacious beautiful suite that I must have been 
upgraded to because of my "gold card" status as a frequent 
business traveler at Intercontinental Hotel Group's properties. 
We checked in and settled in quickly. I called my cousin Steve 
in Austin and told him we were back in the USA, In San Antonio 
and would be in Austin tomorrow, Sunday, and looking forward to 
visiting with him and his family. After that we were out the 
door and headed downtown.
 
Our first stop (after a very warm walk) was Market Square and El 
Mercado. It was teeming with kids in costume as a local radio 
station was staging a Halloween event for the youngsters. Of 
course there were some infantile adults that took the 
opportunity to get into the act as well. It was fun to watch for 
only a few minutes and then we looked inside the Mercado. After 
experiencing true Mercados for two months I had little 
expectations of anything good here and I was dead on with my 
perspective. This Mercado was devoid of foods and solely an 
outlet to sell junk and touristy crap. We were out of there 
quickly too.
 
As we walked towards the Alamo, the Riverwalk and the heart of 
downtown I commented on how we had not seen a Starbucks or any 
coffee houses since we crossed over the boarder into Texas. We 
have seen dozens of beer vendors, but none for coffee. I thought 
that was very telling.  We strolled the river walk on a strange 
spur of it devoid of people, shops or restaurants. It was 
pleasant, but eerie.
 
We went up to a street and strolled making our way past a Plaza 
de Armus. We had never seen one of these outside of Latin 
America before. We walked a bit more and started to hear music 
and saw sidewalk concessionaires. We came up to a stand selling 
perfectly roasted and exquisitely looking and smelling turkey 
drumsticks. I had to have one and I did. It was so big I could 
have finished and be full, but I knew Hiroko wanted a salad 
soon.
 
We walked to the Alamo and went inside for only a minute or two. 
Considering that my great, great grandfather died here on March 
6, 1836, I still felt no special connection to it. I was busily 
chomping on my drumstick as we walked through the remnants of 
the once historic battleground. It is sad the city allowed 
development and encroachment to come as close to the Alamo as it 
did with most of the original structure gone. 
 
We did some more walking and we were in search of a good salad. 
We negotiated our way down to the busy and hectic section of the 
river walk loaded with hotels, shops, and restaurants and of 
course many people. We passed a walk-away alcohol vender and he 
engaged us in conversation. He showed me a menu and here was 
nothing but booze and snacks on it. I asked if he had any salad 
and he said nope. When he figured we were not going to buy 
anything he told us where to go for the best salad on the river 
walk and we headed there. 
 
Well, the spinach salad did not live up to its billing. The 
unique presentation of raw ahi tuna on crackers with a dab of 
guacamole on in the middle, Jalapeno pepper slices on top and a 
dipping sauce of wasabi, soy sauce and Tequila was a unique and 
tasty combination. We ate it all at a nice outdoor table while 
we watched the waves of people walking by this very busy and 
attractive part of the City of San Antonio. No regrets 
whatsoever of coming here. 
 
After our lunch we headed up to the street and try to navigate 
back to our hotel. While we were walking back in the proper 
direction I happened to see a Hard Rock Cafˇ off in the distance 
a few blocks away. I jokingly said that a Starbucks could not be 
that far away from it. We start to walk towards the Hard Rock. A 
few moments later Hiroko broke out into laughter. Right next 
door to the Hard Rock was a Starbucks. We went in and got our 
usual and sat inside, in the air conditioning, and enjoyed it. 
 
We were both tired from insufficient sleep the night before in 
Sabinas, so we were on our way back to the hotel for an early 
evening. It was a good day considering our objective was 
primarily just to navigate out of Mexico and back into the USA 
safely. Mission accomplished!


Fri. 24 Oct. 2008, Day 53 away from home, day 51 in country:

It is Friday and that is one of my busy newsletter days. We got 
a descent night's sleep and I got to work on my financial market 
stuff early. We were planning on going down for breakfast (on 
the house) shortly after nine.  My access to the Internet, and 
consequently my work, did not last very long. The Internet 
access went down. I figured okay, we'll go down to the 
restaurant, have breakfast and I'll work there.  
 
We got down to the restaurant and I had my laptop in tow. Hiroko 
asked me if I wanted some juice and I said okay. She went off 
and returned without juice saying there were no glasses to fill 
with juice. This was the beginning of a bad story and a bad day 
filled with frustration, anger, high drama and world-class 
anxiety. The breakfast was lousy! No juice, the food at the 
steam table was either barely warm or outright cold. The coffee 
was dark lukewarm water.
 
Since my breakfast was cold to begin with, I got up and went to 
the front desk to complain about the Internet access not 
working. The pleasant but stupid young woman at the front desk 
asked me if I would like someone to come to the room to assist 
me with my Internet access. I told her (again) it was not 
anything wrong with my computer, the access was working earlier 
in the morning and then it stopped working. She said she would 
look into it, but never did. I went back and sort of finished my 
lousy breakfast and we headed back to the room. 
 
Of course the access was not working after we got back to the 
room and I was upset about it because I had written my weekly 
text and I could not get it to my editor in the Boston suburbs. 
I was pissed and knew there was a Starbucks down the road a bit 
that we were planning on stopping at for a descent cup of coffee 
before we hit the highway. They have free Internet access for 
their customers in Mexico (not in the USA).
 
Okay we packed and figured I would work at the Starbucks and 
then we would head for the Town of Sabinas. We were on the third 
floor and could not get all the stuff down to the car in one 
trip. We took some of our stuff down to the car and headed back 
for the room only our room key would not open the exterior door 
to let us into the building. A workman doing landscaping saw me 
struggling to get into the building and he let us in with his 
passkey. We got to our room and our room key would not open the 
door. We were locked out and I was getting really pissed off.  I 
went stomping down to the front desk with a full head of steam. 
My blood pressure is starting to rise just writing about this 
episode.
 
I got to the front desk and someone asked me if I was still 
having trouble accessing the Internet and I started to quietly 
unload on them. I said not only was their Internet access not 
working, and therefore I could not do my work and had to go 
somewhere else to work, but I was locked out of my room too. 
There were four people behind the front desk; one on the phone, 
two doing something besides customer service, leaving one idiot 
to deal with recoding my electronic room key. The problem was it 
was a trainee that did not know what the fuck he was doing and 
kept asking the others for help in trying to recode my room key. 
After the third time I gave him my room number my voice began to 
get louder and the other people behind the desk stopped what 
they were doing and the one that said she would look into the 
Inernet access problem earlier (and didn't) took over recoding 
my key. I was about ten seconds away from screaming at these 
bastards. As they say, good things are never cheap and cheap 
things are never (at least rarely) good. STAY AWAY FROM AMERICAN 
EUROTEL HOTELS! They hire kids to work there because they come 
cheaply and they have not clue what customer service is all 
about. 
 
We got back into the room and I made sure that we only made one 
more trip to the car just in case the electronic room key 
decided to stop working again. We packed the car, we drove to 
Starbucks, I finished my work and we were out of Saltillo and 
headed north. We stopped for gas and then continue on our trek 
towards our last stop in Mexico. The conversation came up about 
the boarder crossing and for some reason I touched my side 
pocket where I always kept my wallet with our passports, US 
currency cash hoard, ATM card and back-up credit cards in case 
the other wallet in my other pocket is lost or stole.  At that 
moment I go into shock and horror mode. The passport wallet was 
not in my pocket. 
 
In a heartbeat I hit the brakes and hang an immediate u-turn on 
the highway, breaking from driving at 80 miles per hour. Hiroko 
asked what was going on and I told her. Now we were both freaked 
out! We had been driving north for more than an hour at about 75 
to 80 miles per hour. Now I was racing back to Saltillo at about 
90 miles per hour. I asked Hiroko how to say the word "call" in 
Spanish. I was planning on stopping at the Pemex station some 
miles back where we filled up with gas and ask them if I could 
use their phone to make an emergency call to Saltillo. 
 
I thought it was a good plan. However, we got to the gas station 
and the guy behind the counter in the convenience store 
apologetically said they did not have a phone. What to do? The 
nice guy that pumped my gas earlier (that I was very nice to 
because he was too busy and had no help in pumping and 
collecting money) was playing with his cell phone. I asked him 
where the nearest phone was and he pointed in the wrong 
direction, north. I asked him about the other direction and he 
started to say something when I asked if I could pay him to make 
an important call to Satlillo on his cell phone. At first he 
said no and then relented. 
 
I called the hotel, told them my wallet was locked in the room 
safe and I was an hour away and headed back. I asked the gas guy 
how much I owed him for the call. He checked the phone log for 
where I called and how long I was on and told me eight Pesos. I 
handed him a twenty and said keep the change. Hiroko said I made 
his day with that extra 12-Pesos I gave him, but I did not 
notice as I was racing through scenarios in mind of what to do 
if the wallet was gone. 
 
So, I've got the cruise control locked down at 90 miles per hour 
on this two-lane road (one lane in each direction) and rocketing 
back to retrieve my wallet, our passports and avoidance of a 
world-class hassle at the boarder.  I was part mad as hell at 
myself and part worried. I tried my best to not openly show my 
overt concern, but Hiroko was also in quiet freak-out mode. I 
was flying past everything with wheels on the road making tracks 
for our passports, cash and important papers. While we were 
driving Hiroko suggested we might have to spend another night in 
Saltillo and my reflexive response was no chance.
 
Fortunately, we had not thrown away the car window card that 
gave us access into the parking lot passing the security 
checkpoint unabated.  I decide to try to go to the room first 
and if my room key does not work, I would then go to the front 
desk. This proved to be a critically positive choice. I did not 
know if my room key was still working or not as someone had 
opened the exterior door to the building in front of me, and he 
saw my room key in my hand, so he just held the door open for 
me. I raced up to the third floor and rushed to our former room. 
As I got to it, the door was open and there stood a maintenance 
guy with an electronic gizmo in his hands and he just finished 
opening the in-room safe.  I reach inside it and pull out my 
wallet. They guy asked me if there was anything else in there of 
mine and I said no. I opened the wallet to make sure the 
passports were there and thanked him.  The guy never asked me 
who I was, what my name was, was that my wallet-ANYTHONG! He 
simply let me take it and leave. As I said, stay the hell away 
from AMERICAN EUROTEL HOTELS. They only hire clueless staff.
 
The anxiety attack was over and we were once again heading for 
Sabinas. We made record time getting there as my foot that goes 
on the gas pedal got very heavy that day. We found the hotel 
Hiroko identified on the Internet. She never told me how cheap 
it was for fear I might freak out. She was right. With that 
day's exchange rate the room was $37.00 US. However, at $37.00 
it had one of the best Internet connections we had in several 
days, which was good, because I still had newsletter work to do. 
 
I did a bit of work and we had drinks in the room before we 
headed out for dinner. We sort of decided to get sloshed that 
night after the day's high anxiety. In the room there was a menu 
from a restaurant around the corner that looked interesting. I 
told Hiroko I thought the restaurant and the hotel were 
connected. So we got there and they had two-for-one drinks and 
we were in on that. Of course I got chatty with the waiter and 
before you know it we were jabbering away when I told him I was 
a photographer and gave him my photography card. A minute later 
I was photographing the waiter, his brother and a third 
gentleman that could have been their father. All three worked 
there in the front customer area of the restaurant and there 
were "back of the house" staff in the kitchen. 
 
A few minutes later I was asked to take a picture of two of the 
waiters with three ladies that were there, celebrating the 
birthday of one of them. I chatted with the ladies briefly and 
gave one of them my card (the one that spoke a bit of English) 
and told her if she sent me an email I would reply and send the 
photo of the three with the two waiters. It was one of those 
special interactive moments I like with strangers in another 
country. I politely excused myself and went back to our table 
where Hiroko patiently waited for me. 
 
When the waiter brought us our drinks I asked him how business 
was and he said slow. I asked where all his clients were this 
evening and he said that Friday was their busiest day and that 
between nine and one in the morning they were very busy. We 
finish our meals, we thanked the boys for their hospitality and 
we were headed around the corner to our hotel. We went for a 
short walk around downtown and was truly a sleepy little town.
 
I did not know how long it was after we got back that Hiroko 
said goodnight to me and went to sleep. I was working on photos 
and blogging and was so absorbed that I went well past the point 
of being tired, which was not a good thing for me if I wanted to 
sleep. I worked for about another hour while Hiroko slept and I 
was wide awake and wondering what to do. I decided to go back 
around the corner, have a couple of shots of Tequila and that 
might help me sleep. 
 
I walked into the restaurant and bar and they boys said hi to 
me. I told them I came back just for Tequila and they told me to 
belly up to the bar, which I did. I told our dinner waiter that 
the photos of the place (and them) were already up on my 
website. He said he'd look when he got a chance. A few minutes 
later someone sitting at a table with another guy and a lady 
started to call out my name. I said hello and the waiter came 
over and urged me to go over to him and give him my card, as he 
was the owner of both the restaurant and the hotel we were 
staying in around the corner. It doesn't take much to bait me 
into a conversation with a total stranger.
 
They guy's name was Martin and he invited me to come out to his 
ranch if I was going to be in town for a few days. We could go 
fishing or hunting if I liked. He said I could get some 
spectacular photos there of the views and the river running 
through his property. I had to tell him I was leaving in the 
morning but that I might be back in January. I asked him to 
email me and I'd let him know when I would be back in town and 
visit the ranch then. I quickly threw down two double Tequilas 
with a "back" of stuff I had never done before with Tequila. The 
bartender told me this was how the locals do it. First you throw 
back the jigger of
Tequila, then you throw back a shot glass filled with lime juice 
and then you throw down a shot glass filled with Clamato (a 
mixture of clam and tomato) juice. As they say, when in Rome, do 
as the Romans do. It was an interesting albeit brief second 
visit to the bar. 
 
I went back to the room, stumbled a bit in the dark and probably 
woke up Hiroko and got into bed to sleep as best I could with 
lots running through my mind, including the overload of 
frustrations of this last twenty four hours in Mexico. I finally 
fell asleep.


Thu. 23 Oct. 2008, Day 52 away from home, day 50 in country:

Okay, we were very glad to get out of Zacatecas and hit the road 
again. It was a very pleasant city, but again, after experienced 
some of the nicest places in Mexico, an average or above average 
city is not going to cut it for us. We are in our road mode 
mindset and having mixed emotions about leaving Mexico and going 
home. 
 
Of course we miss our two cats and our cushy bed, but we are in 
love with Mexico and very much looking forward to living here. 
Naturally, there are financial considerations and realities that 
may impede out timeline for our move south. While driving to 
Saltillo we discussed the possibility of returning to the 
Mexican heartland in January. Originally we were planning to go 
to the Baja in February because our temporary (and expensive) 
import license for the car and Mexican insurance policy do not 
expire until March 3, 2009. We now have hopes to return to 
Queretaro for a month and get back stateside on or before March 
3rd.
 
So, we are making the relatively short drive to Saltillo and 
discussing how good the road was and surprised that it was toll 
free. That was indeed a pleasant surprise. It was a direct shot 
to Saltillo on the same highway 54 as we took into Zacatecas, so 
getting there was a synch. Getting to the hotel was a bit tricky 
in this city of more than six hundred thousand, but we manage to 
get there safely. Initially we turned a hair too soon and drove 
by the place without fully realizing it. Eventually we got back 
to it and checked in.
 
We could not help but notice the scores of young people in the 
lobby area and in the restaurant, the lounge and all over the 
hallways and common areas in the non-room sections of the hotel. 
I felt like I could have been either the father or grandfather 
to almost everyone there except those that looked like there 
were the adult supervisors: perhaps teachers. 
 
If we were not absolutely certain this hotel was for young 
people when we checked in, we certainly knew it when we had to 
hand carry all our 'stuff' up the narrow stairs to our third 
floor room. Bummer! We managed to do it in two trips and wound 
down a bit in the room before heading out to town. We had 
changed our travel plans that included spending a night in 
Austin, TX. I have a cousin living in Austin. Steven Holzman is 
the son of my cousin Audrey. I haven't seen or talked with 
Steven in a long time. So while still in the room I go onto the 
Internet and Google my cousin's name. I know he is a surgeon.

I find the phone number of his practice office and I call it. I 
asked the woman that answered the phone if Steve was in. She 
said he was in surgery this afternoon, so I ask if I can leave 
him a message. I tell her I am his cousin from CA, in Mexico, 
passing through Austin in a few days and my wife and I would 
love to get together with him and his wife while we are in town. 
She then asks me if I would like his cell phone number. Of 
course I said yes and called Steve's cell phone and leave him a 
voicemail message. Now I was ready to head out into town.
 
On the way out we stop at the front desk and ask about the 
distance to El Centro and we were told it was too far to walk. I 
asked and we were told that a taxi should cost us thirty-five to 
forty Pesos. We grab a cab right outside the hotel and the 
driver agrees to 40-Pesos to take us downtown. Perhaps we got 
too chatty and too friendly with the driver and told him too 
much. When we get out I hand him 40-Pesos and he says no, it was 
a 50-Peso fare. I was not going to get into a heated argument 
over 10-Pesos, which is about eighty-five cents today.
 
We had asked the driver to take us to Zocalo and he was not sure 
what we meant until we said the Catedral (not a typo, that is 
how they spell it in Spanish) and just before we got to it he 
told us of another plaza and park a few blocks away. It did not 
take very long to walk around the entire plaza area. My 
attention got caught by the "Casino Saltillo," so we walked over 
to the building and walked in. I was thinking it could be a 
gambling casino, but also remembered seeing a casino in Moleria 
that was not a gambling house. 
 
We walked into what was a private club for the city's well 
healed and well to do. It was a stately and grand old building. 
Knowing we did not belong there a gentleman came over to us and 
asked if he could help us. I asked if it was okay for us to walk 
around inside and look at the place. My Spanish was improving 
daily. He said okay. A few moments later a more distinguished 
gentleman, more like a maitre'd type and asked if he could be of 
assistance. I went through the same mantra and this time we got 
a tour of some of the rooms we had not seen previously. We 
thanked him and were on our way in short order.
 
It took very little time to canvass the entire downtown area of 
this blue-collar city supported by a large industrial base. I 
saw an advertisement for a new townhouse for sale for 
only187,000 Pesos. That is just under $14,000 US at the current 
exchange rates. If I were in the area I'd buy some and rent them 
out as rents were running around $250 US per month. Okay, we 
head for the other plaza and the park we were in for a big 
surprise. On the way we found a modern supermarket and we bought 
a couple of items for the road for tomorrow. 
 
This park was huge. On top of that the park was "blanketed," in 
their words, with free WiFi Internet access. I mean how 
progressive is that? Where are the USA cities in this arena? The 
park also had a theater and a free library.  We have been 
repeatedly impressed with this country's emphasis on access to 
information, education and culture for all. Mexican 
municipalities could give lessons to their counterparts in the 
USA. We walked through the park and then walked around the 
perimeter of half of it, which was a long walk. It was three or 
four large city blocks long. At the far end it had a lake, but 
when we got there the man-made lake was without water. Oh well.
 
So we walk back to El Centro and we did not find a single place 
that we found appealing for dinner. We decided to hop in a taxi 
back to the hotel with the idea of having dinner there. They did 
have spinach salad on their menu and we were in dire need of a 
good dose of fiber. So we did not get chatty with the return 
driver and he told us 40-Pesos and we agreed to it. However, 
when we got out and I handed him a fifty and he said he only had 
five Pesos change. I know he was lying as there was change on 
the dashboard. This industrial town must be full of taxi drivers 
that  "pinch" Gringos. Beware of that if you come to Satillo.
 
We got back to the hotel, got to the room and had a bit of 
libation before we headed down for dinner. So, I ordered the 
spinach salad and surprise, they do not have any of it. I hate 
this bait and switch crap. We settled on a Caesar Salad and it 
was served with enough mayonnaise to make a pint of thousand-
island dressing if we had a bit of relish and ketchup. Hiroko 
scraped off the dressing and I had a bowl of soup and we headed 
back to the room. We made it an early night and we slept okay. 
Tomorrow we were off to our final destination inside Mexico: 
Sabinas, only ninety miles from the International boarder.


Wed. 22 Oct. 2008, Day 51 away from home, day 49 in country:

Happy Birthday Geri (my younger sister).

Aguacaliente was a brief and pleasant stay, even if we never did 
find any of the hot water the town is named for. This morning we 
were off to Zacatecas.
 
Our original plans had us going through the town of San Luis 
Potosi, but we had difficulties finding a hotel room available 
online. Hiroko chose this place as a convenient stopover point 
on our trek north as it was on a major road more than anything 
else. The city itself held little interest for us. Due to the 
lack of response on the Internet from the hotels we contacted in 
San Luis Portosi, we opted to go to Zacatecas instead. We were 
fearful of another festival making finding a room too difficult 
as we just encountered in trying to stay in Guernajato and wound 
up staying in Silao instead.
 
Zacatecas proved to be a nice and a somewhat attractive place to 
stay. Unfortunately, the only place that we could book online 
without spending $200 US was the Howard Johnson's Plaza Hotel. 
If this shit-hole is representative of the entire hotel chain, 
then I suggest you sleep in your car and save some money rather 
than staying in a shit-hole place like this.
 
When we got to our room after checking in, the first thing I 
noticed is the housekeepers neglected to empty the trash can in 
the bathroom after cleaning the room. They also left the room 
without any toilet paper. There is nothing worse than a shit-
hole without something to wipe it with. We did not spend much 
time in the room and headed out for a walk and to search the 
town. I should have checked out the room a bit more carefully 
before we left, as you'll find out why soon.
 
We were much closer to the heart of this city than we realized. 
We walked towards what we thought was downtown and made a ver 
large circle and wound up back at our hotel while trying to find 
the tram that took people across the top of the city from one 
mountain peak to another one. This was another non-descript 
central Mexican city that for us was more a place to lay our 
bones and sleep that anything else.
 
I was really tired from insufficient sleep the night before, so 
we made our way back to our room fairly early.  I fought to stay 
awake until eight so we could eat in our room and I would crash 
and sleep. I did not quite make it to eight, but awoke about 
seven forty five and had the leftovers of my goat meal, some 
leftover rice and a sleeping pill for dinner. Even the very 
noisy air conditioning system (that barely move the air in the 
room- and the movement was largely due to the vibrations of the 
motor) was not strong enough to keep me awake between the only 
three or four hours the night before and the Ambien CR. Adios 
muchachos. 


Tue. 21 Oct. 2008, Day 50 away from home, day 48 in country:

Adios Guanajuato and Silao, Hello Aguacalientes! We were out 
relatively early today.
 
It was a rather short drive to Aguacaliente considering what we 
are facing in our upcoming days. We took our time and checked 
out of the hotel in Salao, after eating a full breakfast of 
course, packed and hit the road. The roads seem to be better on 
the return trip than they were on the way down. Then again, 
after so many miles driven and so many different cities, states, 
roads and road conditions, who knows where the truth lies. 
Besides, my memory for some things is not what it used to be. I 
think I will research methods of stimulating memory and recall 
when I get home. I know my analytical work for the newsletters 
has to be helping me retain that capacity to some degree.
 
We missed the bypass around the city of Leon, nearby Siloa and 
were headed straight into the heart of this industrial city. 
When I came to a traffic signal I looked up and we saw a 
Starbucks. I never thought I would ever be overjoyed to see one 
of their franchises.  After the lousy coffee we had the past 
day, not including what we made in our room, we were ready, 
willing and able to pay too much for a descent cup of coffee. I 
guess that is how Starbucks built their chain into a mega-
company. 
 
In this country Starbucks compensates their customers for 
overcharging on the coffee by giving free high-speed interest 
access at no charge. So, while I am enjoying my Cafˇ Mocha and 
chocolate brownie I am checking my email, replying to one from 
my friend and associate in business Jesse and check the markets 
again. We were not there very long and when we left we were 
dealing with the inner city traffic of a sizable industrial 
town, which is not what we were hoping for. We managed to avoid 
the El Centro congestion and somehow, with a bit of luck and 
intuition, we made it to the bypass road and then to the toll 
road to day's destination of Aguacalientes.
 
The geographic and topographical changes came rapidly. We were 
going to a semi-dry area because of the season, and partly due 
to the higher elevation. Once we hit the toll road, which was 
more expensive than any other so far in this country, it was 
smooth sailing to Aguacalientes although finding our hotel was 
not that easy.
 
The town was configured in such a way as to take us under a 
large mall and that caused us to miss the street we needed to 
turn onto. At a traffic signal Hiroko rolled down her window and 
asked a gentleman in a VW bug next to us how to find the place 
we were looking for. He told us it was next to Don Quixote, but 
we had no idea what he was talking about. He told us to follow 
him, which we did. Ultimately, we found out that the  Don Quiote 
he was referring to was a large memorial with a big statue in 
the middle of the road with a "round about" going around it and 
the hotel was on the round about. 
 
We check into the hotel, do our typical unpacking for a one-
night stand, and head out into the town. The hotel was not what 
we had become accustomed to and the air conditioning system in 
our room was exceptionally noisy. Fortunately, in this room we 
had the option to leave electrical things on when we left the 
room, as it did not have one of those slots that you needed to 
insert your electronic room key into to enable the room's 
electrical system. So, we leave the room with the noisy AC on 
and hope that when we get back to the room it will be cool 
enough to take us through the night. 
 
At the front desk we ask for a map of the city and how far of a 
walk it is to El Centro. Thinking we were as old as we looked, 
the front desk clerk suggested that we take a taxi to El Centro. 
We thank her for the information and took the one-mile walk to 
Centro. Aguacaleintes is a non-descript sort of place that is 
off the tourist destination maps as a place to visit. However 
what we saw told us that the authorities were trying to cause a 
metamorphosis by investing heavy amounts of money into 
modernizing the infrastructure and entertainment venues. I would 
give them an A for effort, but the execution was left wanting. 
Their timing was obviously bad as many of the restaurants and 
shops along the new pedestrian mall created between the El 
Centro area and the new Bullfighting Ring laid dormant or 
vacant. It seems as tough many towns north of central Mexico, 
where we were and heading, were doing many things to perhaps 
capture some of the travel dollars of US Citizens. 
 
By the way, I think this trip has gotten me away from referring 
to myself as just an American. In my mind the residents of 
Mexico are just as much Americans as we are.
 
For the most part this town was relatively boring. Perhaps our 
perspective might have been different had we come through here 
on our way south instead of heading home after visiting some 
extraordinary places. For the first time on this trip I actually 
found something very objectionable to me and would not 
photograph it: The bullring. I am so against the 
institutionalized harassment and torturing of these creatures 
that it is not acceptable to me under any set of guidelines or 
circumstances. 
 
After walking for what seemed like forever we took a breather in 
a local watering hole across form a very delightful park. I had 
a double Tequila and Hiroko had her usual glass of red wine. A 
double was not a great idea on an empty stomach. While drinking 
I happened to look up at an old radio atop of a hutch and the 
brand name on it was Howard. Ask me if I took a photo of it?
 
After drinks we were in search of a descent place to have 
dinner. After looking at countless menus we chose a local place 
that had an interesting salad on the menu on display on a 
lectern at the front door. However, when we were presented with 
the menus after taking our seat at the table of our choosing 
there were no salads on it. I asked our server where the menu 
with the salads were, and she gave me a half-assed answer and we 
were out of our seats and out the front door in a heartbeat. We 
went back to a health-food restaurant we passed earlier and had 
a delightful entrˇe and salad and walked back to the hotel in 
the dark. It was an early evening. 

On the way back to our hotel we backtracked to a very cool 
looking coffee house and cafe. There were no vacant tables 
outside so we meandered inside and found an empty table in the 
back. I do not remember the name of the place, but I will 
remember the best cup of coffee I had in Mexico. I was beyond 
surprised. 

After the coffee we made the walk back to our hotel and with the 
aid of drugs we were down for the night. 


Mon. 20 Oct. 2008, Day 49 away from home, day 47 in country:

Another crisp and blue-sky Mexican morning greeted us when we 
woke up. Thanks to a bit of modern chemistry my Ambien CR 
knocked me down and kept me down for nearly eight hours. I can 
only sleep that long with the aid of pharmaceuticals. 
 
I got up and did my usual Monday morning ritual of checking the 
news wires, the financial market news & foibles and what the 
credit market was doing this day. We had our ritualistic bread 
and fruit breakfast in the room and then after I got done with 
my morning economic research and writing, we were down in the 
hotel restaurant for a North American style breakfast. It 
consisted of orange juice, toast, coffee, scrambled eggs, and 
refried beans with salsa picante. Okay, so it was a "sort of" 
North American breakfast with local enhancements. After all, it 
was still a Holiday Inn Express, although I was not ready to do 
brain surgery today.
 
We finished and made ready to head out for a day's adventure in 
the City of Guanajuarto. After a bit of dialoging we decided to 
take the public transportation bus to Guanajuarto rather than 
trying to drive to someplace we were unfamiliar with while they 
were going through a festival that draws people from all over 
the country. I have lived in Marin County for more than thirty 
years and have never taken a bus there, so this was truly an 
adventure for me. Besides, how can you go wrong with a bus fare 
of 18-Pesos per person ($1.38 USD today) for a thirty-minute bus 
ride? If I were to drive I'd probably be lost for more than 
thirty minutes in getting to Guanajuarto.
 
We had asked the hotel front desk how far it was to the bus 
terminal and how much it costs to take a taxi all the way to 
Guanajuarto. Thinking we were "old gringos" and out of shape, he 
recommended that we take a taxi to the bus terminal for about 
25-Pesos and then take the bus to Guanajuarto for perhaps 
another 20-Pesos. He was very wrong about our being "old 
gringos," because he had no idea we were avid walkers. The taxi 
to Guanajuarto costs about 200-Pesos he said.
 
The walk to the bus terminal in Centro Silao took perhaps twenty 
minutes or so. The only unnerving part was that we were walking 
on the shoulder of the main north-south highway with cars 
driving at 80 miles per hour. We stayed far from the traffic 
lanes and no cars came close to us, although we do recall 
commenting previously about how unnerving it was driving at high 
speeds with people walking on the shoulder of the road and often 
dashing across the highway between passing cars. One slip and 
they would become road kill doing that. We were not highway 
dashers. 
 
So, we arrive at the terminal and were surprise that the fare 
was so reasonable and that the busses left every fifteen minutes 
for Guanajuarto. It was not exactly a chicken bus, but it was 
also not the "Primera Plus" first class bus either. There was no 
air conditioning on this bus, but fortunately it was not that 
hot this day, so we were perfectly comfortable. The bus ride was 
uneventful. It was a good feeling for me to be part of an 
everyday activity for regular working people here. 
 
As we roll into Guanajuarto I was particularly delighted and 
being able to look around and see everything without having to 
focus most of my attention on driving and missing many of the 
'eye candy' all around us. We thought we would be taking the bus 
to the central bus terminal, which was far from the El Centro 
area. Much to our delight the bus took us very close to the 
center of town. We got off and thought our first stop would be 
the Mercado Publico. The Mercado's building was designed by the 
same Gustov Eiffel that built the Eiffel Tower in Paris. 
 
Initially we walked in the wrong direction, but that was Okay. 
We got to see many interesting streets, alleys and people doing 
their everyday things and that was part of the interest for me. 
Ultimately, after asking for assistance along the way we found 
our way to the Mercado. It was a two-story disappointment. It 
was one of the weakest Mercados we had seen in the country even 
if the structure itself was somewhat interesting with the steel 
framing and the second floor perimeter balcony with the middle 
open to a very tall roof. Upon exiting the Mercado we noticed an 
area of outdoor cocinas that was in first position for us to eat 
our lunch later if we found nothing better.
 
We walked and walked and walked. Sound familiar? We were trying 
to find the Museum of Don Quixote, but were having a lot of 
difficulties locating it. As it turned out we had walked passed 
it once or twice, but did not notice it because it was closed. 
All the museums in town were closed. There were many makeshift 
theaters set up all over town for the various venues for the 
theatrical performances going on each evening. 
 
So we walked up and down alleys and streets, through a maze of 
intricate passageways and worked up a good appetite and 
ultimately goy back to that area just outside the Mercado for 
lunch. As you approach this area, which contains several 
different food concessions all competing for your business, the 
vendors stand up (with the bosses standing on boxes or 
platforms) and they wave menus at passersbys to get their 
attention in the hopes they will come to their stand. It was an 
interesting display.
 
We chose one, for reasons unknown to me, looked at the menu and 
sat down. The young woman behind the counter and her friend (who 
was behind us cleaning everything in sight) were giggling at our 
efforts to both understand and be understood as they spoke no 
English. One of the things we got used to in Oaxaca was that the 
locals spoke Spanish as a slower pace, much as we speak English. 
Here they spoke more like other Latinos, which is very rapidly 
and the words run into each other making it more difficult for 
us gringos to understand, but we managed. The food was okay, 
which in itself was a disappointment after being wowed so many 
times in recent days. 
 
We finished lunch and went in search of a nice sidewalk cafˇ we 
saw earlier hoping for a good cup of coffee. We had a crappy one 
earlier at one of those damn Italian Coffee Company places. 
Never again! We found the outdoor cafˇ and ordered coffee 
telling the server that it must be very strong. It wasn't. Not 
finding a good cup of coffee in this gorgeous town was a big 
disappointment. After the coffee we literally headed for the 
hills. We were searching for the tram to take us to the top of 
the hills to get a birds eye view of the city. We did not find 
the tram, but did manage to walk all the way up there. Hiroko 
commented that it was not as bad a hike up the narrow winding 
pedestrian only alleys as she had thought.
 
At the top the views were breathtaking. The city was beautiful 
with a sprinkling of colorful housing dotting the hills amid the 
bland pale houses. It was serious eye candy. We sat up there for 
a while just taking in the panoramic view before heading down in 
a different direction that the one we walked up in. On the way 
down we came upon the tiny little tram that was so cute. It had 
a capacity of perhaps four full sized adults of six adults of 
our size. There are an unhealthy number of "super-sized" people 
in this country.
 
As we get to the bottom of the hill we begin to look for a place 
to have a drink and a snack. I was thinking we were going to 
stay in town until the evening, but Hiroko had other ideas as 
she was getting tired. We did a lot of looking for the right bar 
and restaurant and did not find it. We settled for an outdoor 
cafˇ we had passed many times already this day. I was looking 
for a place that served my brand of gin, but it was not to be 
found. We ordered a glass of wine for Hiroko, but I had trouble 
making myself understood with the waiter, so Hiroko suggested I 
go inside and look at what they had to offer and then point to 
what I wanted. It did not quite work out that way.
 
I wound up drinking Tequila and I had ordered a double from the 
waiter, as I was not driving. It was smooth as silk and I went 
back inside to talk with the bartender that spoke English 
reasonably well. I wanted to know what brand I was drinking and 
took out my notepad and wrote it down. Well, while this is going 
on a second bartender comes over and we get into this very cute 
discussion about which is the best Tequila made in Mexico. The 
second bartender also preferred Mescal over Tequila. I told him 
I had been drinking some good Mescal for over a month and it was 
time for some good Tequila. Both bartenders laughed and it was a 
fun exchange. 
 
Back at the table we order a snack of queso and champignons. The 
cheese was good, but mushrooms were the canned variety that you 
can get in any supermarket anywhere and it was somewhat 
disappointing. We enjoyed it none-the-less. I finished my double 
Tequila and wanted to taste the other brand the second bartender 
thought was a better choice. At the same time I knew another 
double and I'd be in no shape to walk back to where we had to 
catch the bus, so I ordered as single. As luck would have it, I 
preferred the first one. We finished, paid the check and were 
off to the bus stop. Along the way I stumble and fall to the 
ground while crossing a street. There were two curbs and I was 
busy taking in the sights and did not notice the second curb and 
I was on the ground before I knew it. I broke my fall with my 
left hand (that is how skateboarders break their wrists), but 
there was no major damage.
 
I quickly got up as road kill is not a position I would like to 
be in. As we are making our way to the bus stop we come upon a 
large crown flowing into a makeshift outdoor theater. There were 
folding chairs neatly arranged in front of the stage and then 
there were the cheap seats where the crowds were filtering into 
after being searched and then walking through metal detectors. 
The police presence at this event was huge and the security was 
more than we had seen anywhere else in this country. I went up 
to one policeman and asked him if the cheap seats were free and 
he said yes. I thought that it was great that the city included 
those that could not afford the expensive seats in front of the 
stage. Those cheap seats, as I referred to them, were really not 
that far from the stage as you might expect. We stood around for 
a while and watched and then started back towards the bus stop.
 
We did have to wait for a bus a bit longer than expected. The 
traffic was really bad as many of the streets into the El Centro 
area were cordoned off and they were not allowing cars in, 
probably as part of the strict security regimen they established 
here for the festival. The bus came and we were on it. It was an 
uneventful ride back to Silao. We got to the Centro de 
Autobusses and it was already dark. We walked back to our hotel 
in the dark and called it an evening.


Sun. 19 Oct. 2008, Day 48 away from home, day 46 in country:

It was a really slow start to the day in spite of my being up at 
five. I did not sleep well for a variety of reasons. I was up 
long before Hiroko, so I just did some backing up of the laptop 
hard drive and some other stuff having to do with blogging and 
photos. 

We were in no hurry today, as usual. Long holidays will do that 
to you and besides, it was Sunday morning. If I did not continue 
to do newsletters, I would probably completely lose all sense of 
the day and date. Since I was up really early and my brain was 
feeling sluggish from a lack of enough sleep, I made some very 
strong coffee for myself. Hiroko was either still asleep or 
wanting to be, so she remained in bed.

This morning we were off to the City fo Siloa. It was past our 
desired destination of Guanajuarto, but there is a festival 
going on and no acceptable rooms were available. The festival 
here is something akin to the Sundance Film Festival at Park 
City each winter, only this festival is more comprehensive. It 
is a festival for the performing arts, including theater, 
movies, music concerts and art exhibits. Siloa is an industrial 
city about ten to fifteen miles from Guanajuarto. 

So we do our thing, packed and loaded the car then checked out 
of the hotel. Just as we were about to get on the freeway I saw 
a Mega Supermarket. Mega was the name, although it was also 
quite descriptive. My intent was to see if I could find a normal 
sized coffee funnel for making our in-room coffee. Along the way 
inside the store we picked up a couple bottles of wine, some 
bananas and then I noticed there was a steam table and people 
were poking over what looked to be a goat locally barbequed 
goat. I could not believe my eyes. Hiroko saw my eyes open wide 
and asked if I wanted to buy some. Silly question! I did my own 
picking over the carcass bones (I know it sounds terrible and 
very un-Buddhist like, but we all have our flaws).  We also got 
some bread and munchies and started for the checkout and the car 
and were on our way.

We decided to take the longer drive-time route to Guanajuarto 
and visit the much hyped city of San Miguel de Allende. 

While on the very windy road through the hills and countryside 
of Central Mexico we had to come to a sudden stop in the middle 
of the highway on a curve. I had a feeling that sooner or later 
we would unexpectedly be coming face-to-face with some livestock 
in the roadway. Anyway, being alert to the potential at all 
times, I make a sudden but controlled stop as a huge bull slowly 
meandered across the traffic lanes. He stopped moving across the 
road when we stopped. He sort of looked at us, I think, and then 
continued to finish crossing the road. Had one of those large 
busses been coming around the curve from the other direction at 
that moment the bull would have hamburger meat and we would have 
his horns embedded in our hood.

We had read enough about it to know that San Miguel de Allende 
was not our style but we had to go look and see it anyway. We 
found the place without too much difficulty and the first 
parking space we came to and parked in was for taxis only, but 
you could not tell that by the signage. So a guy who was washing 
cars in the same area asked if we wanted a car wash and we said 
no thank you.  He then proceeded to tell me it was a taxi only 
parking area, so we got back in the car and moved it down the 
block. With about fifty meters we came upon what looked like a 
legal parking space in front of one of the two main churches in 
El Centro.  

So, I park in what we thought was a legal parking space with a 
two hour parking limit. We did our swing through town and one of 
the first things we see is a bunch of old Ford Mustangs lined up 
on the closed off street in a show. We also notice that there 
were too many people (for our liking) speaking in English. We 
were not in Mexico to mingle with Americans and it turned us 
off. We walked for perhaps an hour and had our fill of an 
attractive town that we both agreed was more like North America 
South than a Mexican city.

So, we get back to the car and standing in front of it is the 
car wash guy we encountered earlier and a police officer. 
Apparently, according to the dynamic duo, we were illegally 
parked in a handicapped zone. That was too difficult to 
ascertain based on where we were standing and the visible 
signage. The car wash guy was acting as the interpreter. I said 
that there was no way to know that it was a handicapped only 
parking zone by looking at the signage where we were. The police 
officer walked me back to the corner some fifty or so feet back 
and pointed to a handicapped only parking placard. We walked 
back to our car and I pointed to the sign at the front of the 
car that suggested it was a two hour parking zone. 

We were getting nowhere fast and the police officer had his 
ticket book in hand and asked for my driver's license. You may 
recall from a blog of a few weeks ago about Anyez's forewarnings 
to me not to give a police officer my driver's license, as I 
would likely have to pay a bribe to get it back. So, I told the 
interpreter that I only had a copy of my license that my wallet 
was stolen in Guadalajara. The policeman said that the copy was 
not acceptable and that he would have to take the license plates 
off our car. I stayed calm and Hiroko chimed in and said how 
about giving him her driver's license. At first he said no, but 
then said okay. 

I took out Hiroko's driver's license and handed it to the police 
officer. He placed it on top of his ticket book, but did not 
start to write anything. While this is going on the car wash 
interpreter was called away by one of his customers that double-
parked just ahead of us and the officer was stalling and waiting 
for him to return. After a meaningless double-speak interchange 
the interpreter tells me the police officer is give me a break 
and write the ticket for the minimum fine for this infraction of 
only 150-Pesos instead of the 200-Peso fine he was originally 
going to write us up for. I very politely thanked the police 
officer for his consideration, but he was still not writing 
anything down on his ticket pad, which made me a bit suspicious, 
but I said nothing. 

Through the interpreter the officer said I would have to appear 
at his office and pay the fine. I asked if that could be done 
right away. I never even got a chance to tell them that we were 
just passing through town and not staying in this area. After 
uttering a few words to the car wash interpreter I am handed 
back Hiroko's driver's license and the officer walks about 
twenty-five feet away. The interpreter tells me the officer is 
going to be nice to us and he will ignore the parking infraction 
if we buy him a Coke soft drink. I have no small change and the 
smallest paper currently in my pocket is a 50-Peso note. 

Knowing a Coke costs a lot less than 50-Pesos, I walk across the 
street (with the policeman watching my every step from afar) to 
the nearest shop and ask the girl behind the counter change of a 
fifty. She said no and I resorted to begging. She said wait a 
moment and she produced the change. I walk back across the 
street, again under the watchful eye of the police officer some 
twenty-five feet away, and return to the car and the 
interpreter. I hand the guy a 20-Peso note (about US $1.75 at 
todays exchange rate) and tell him to buy himself a coke too and 
we were out of there. The cop could not be seen taking money 
from us, so the go-between took care of that. Beside, I hear you 
can go directly to jail for a long time if you are caught 
bribing a police officer. We got off cheap and were out of there 
in a flash!

Moving right along, Silao is an industrial city that has a 
General Motors assembly plant along with auto parts and 
accessory manufacturing facilities whereas Guanajuarto is a 
beautiful and quaint city looking like a storybook place of 
colorful homes painted across the hills surrounding the Centro 
area in the valley below. The view from the perimeter hillside 
bypass road is breathtakingly beautiful.

Rather than take the road that circumvented the downtown area, 
we went through the heart of Guanajuarto, whether by accident or 
design I am not sure. We had heard that driving through the 
downtown area of Guanajuarto was supposed to be a nightmare. It 
was anything but that. We got a small taste of this perfectly 
delightful city and cultural center of the sixth most populated 
state in Mexico. Driving through was a breeze and it wasn't long 
before we were out of town and on our way to Silao.

The direction from the Holiday Inn Express website was very 
precise, explicit and took us right to the hotel's front door. I 
picked this place for a couple of reasons. I knew what we would 
get in terms of bang for our buck as I am a H.I. Priority Club 
member and stay at these facilities when I travel for business. 
Hiroko discovered rather quickly that this was a business hotel 
when in the lobby she noticed the sign that said the hotel had a 
shuttle service to the nearby General Motors assembly plant.

Well, GM is in the tank, along with the rest of the US domestic 
automotive industry (largely due to their own terminal myopia, 
again), and it was apparent at the lack of people at this hotel. 
We were checking in at mid to late afternoon and got a really 
nice room on the top floor in an interior facing room that was 
devoid of the highway noise that was likely in the exterior 
facing rooms. It was just fine. The bellman came up with us and 
with our baggage in tow. He unloaded it for us and I tipped him 
and he was on his way. I soon went back to the lobby to park the 
car as I left it in front of the entrance, but it did not matter 
with the lack of people here. 

I parked the car in the largely vacant basement parking lot and 
came back up to the room where I was immediately greeted with a 
welcomed martini made by Hiroko. On the way down to the car I 
asked the nice young woman at the front desk if she had a map of 
the city. She fetched a brochure that included a map and told me 
there wasn't much to the town. She said we could tour the entire 
Zocalo area and downtown in twenty minutes or less. The brochure 
listed only a small handful of restaurants and places to go. 
Bummer.

Okay, we decide to go next door to Applebee's for a take-out 
salad and munch out of leftover goat and other stuff we have in 
the cooler and stay in, as tomorrow will likely be a very full 
day. So, we order our first Gringo meal in Mexico after more 
than a month and a half in the county. It was a spinach and 
grilled shrimp salad. We would finish off some leftovers we had 
been carrying around in our cooler from Oaxaca and there was 
always the leftover goat that we got this morning. It was a low 
key dinner and evening. We ate, we drank, we laughed about the 
carwash guy and the San Miguel de Allende police officer and 
called it a day.


Sat. 18 Oct. 2008, Day 47 away from home, day 45 in country:

I had a great night's sleep and woke up refreshed. It was a 
crisp and overcast morning as we each did our thing while having 
our usual in-room breakfast of fresh fruit, bread and/or 
pastries. 

We were setting a leisurely pace for ourselves today as we only 
had plans to walk to and see the aqueduct here and then go to 
the museum in El Centro. Our walk began as usual, headed towards 
the Zocalo. When we got to the main drag in town, Avenida de 
Constituentes, we turned right this time instead of going to the 
left or straight. It was another ten minutes of street walking 
before we reached our destination. 

It seems as thought the Spaniards were aqueduct builders with a 
passion. We have been seeing aqueducts everywhere in the 
country, but few can rival what we saw here in Queretaro. The 
aqueduct here is on a grand scale in terms of both height and 
distance traversed. The aqueduct, still in use today, appeared 
to be as tall as a six or seven story building at its highest 
point as it crossed over what was likely once a low-lying area.  
We walked under it and up a hill to a prominent vista point 
where you could see its beginning and ending points and view it 
in a wider context of this sprawling metropolis. 

As we approached the vista point we saw two tour buses (drat!). 
We are not very fond of either tour buses or the herd mentality 
it often creates with their passengers. Fortunately, they were 
two buses of reasonably well-behaved students that appeared to 
be of high school age and they were all in uniform outfits and 
under the supervision of adults. They went about their business 
quietly and so did we. 

We finished our viewing of the city to the East and South from 
this vantage point and then headed across the street to the 
Pantheon where there were memorials to local, regional and 
national heroes of the revolution and the history of the city. 
There were also people entombed there. We managed to get in and 
get out before the swarms of students infested the area with 
their presence. It was a nice albeit brief visit to this site 
and then we were off to El Centro from a different direction.

As we walked down the street I noticed a schoolyard with lots of 
activity. As usual I followed my curiosity and we walked into 
the schoolyard area. There we saw parents patiently waiting or 
watching their youngsters of all ages in groups practicing 
marshal arts in their white uniforms. It was interesting to see 
this. There was also a soccer field with young men playing a 
match with very few onlookers. They were essentially playing for 
themselves and for the joy of the game. We watched for a bit and 
then continued on our trek towards Zocalo.

Next we came upon a beautiful former convent that stood out in 
its neighborhood. A block or two towards the Zocalo from the 
convent site we came upon another church (no surprise in this 
country). What was surprising was the activity going on there 
this Saturday morning. In much the same as we had seen before, 
there was a fireworks display being set up. When asking what 
time it was to go off we were told ten, as we were the day 
before. Beyond that, the expansive area in front of the church 
was undergoing a metamorphosis of sorts.

In the manner much like that of Asian sand painting or Italian 
street painting, there was another form of street art unfolding 
before us. There were teams of youngsters taking large sacks of 
wood shavings and dying them in different colors off to the 
right side of a bandstand that was being erected in the area 
near the entrance to the church. In the large open area directly 
in front of the church was a sea of colorful wood chips 
depicting a religious scene, naturally. The further away from 
the church entrance you got (and the area was more than a 
hundred feet in length) the less complete the street art was. 
Closest to the roadway we watched a young man with a piece of 
chalk in hand sketching out the pattern for others to follow 
filling in the pattern with different colors of wood chips. It 
was both artful, interesting to watch and very entertaining.

I engaged in some interesting non-verbal communications with 
many of the worker-bees performing different tasks. They noticed 
me, an obvious Gringo, walking among them, taking non-intrusive 
photos, making eye contact and simply smiling at them (and with 
them) and exchanging the universal head nod that we most often 
associate with men acknowledging each other. I love those kinds 
of non-verbal cross-cultural interactions. We were going to try 
our best to stay out long enough this evening to watch the 
fireworks. Next stop: The Museum.

We had stopped and peeked into the museum central courtyard area 
the evening before, but were not allowed in for whatever reason. 
The architecture was very appealing and I was looking forward to 
going back. My expectation for the place was very pleasantly 
exceeded. The exhibits were well organized and put together and 
the art from antiquity to contemporary was well thought out and 
displayed. As was the case with other museums we visited in this 
country, they gave not just a local history, but also a regional 
and national perspective of pre-Columbian history, through the 
Spanish dominance of the country to contemporary art and 
culture. I loved it all.

So, we leave the museum and we were curious if there was a 
Mercado Publico in this town. I figured there had to be one, but 
the maps we had, made primarily for touristas (a class of 
Gringos we are members of) did not show it. We walked back to 
one of the smaller plazas off the main one towards a Gloria 
Jean's coffee shop for a dose of caffeine. We figured the coffee 
there had to be better than anything offered at The Italian 
Coffee Company, the dominant coffee house chain in this country. 
The Italian Coffee Company is as dominant in Mexico as Chock 
Full of Nuts in New York or Starbucks in the rest of the US. I 
went in to order coffee and saw an irresistible chocolate 
layered cake that I had to have. The coffee was good as I told 
the young lady behind the counter when asked if I would like to 
order coffee that I did, but only if it was strong. 

While enjoying that decadent slice of cake with our coffee we 
discussed returning to this city for a month in February. That 
is how much we are enjoying it here. I expressed my only concern 
about this city: that its proximity to Mexico City might pose 
some additional security concerns. Apparently the kidnapping of 
foreigners for ransom had become a larger problem in Mexico over 
the past year. It extends beyond foreigners to successful 
merchants, their families and the wealthy and well to do. The 
government has even set up a new anti-kidnapping police unit. 
Having said that, it will not prevent me from considering a 
long-term stay in this unexpectedly delightful city about a 
hundred miles north of Mexico City.

I got up from the table and went inside to chat with the coffee 
woman behind the counter again. This time it was about what it 
might cost to rent a one-bedroom apartment in this town. She 
asked if I wanted to be in the El Centro area and I said yes. 
She made me a makeshift map on a piece of paper and told me to 
check out the Sophia Suites three blocks away. That was one of 
our first two choices of where to stay in this city, but they 
could not accommodate us for the dates we needed. It is a small 
lodging facility with only eight suites. We finished out cake 
and coffee and headed for the suites.

While walking into the small and neat facility only three short 
blocks away we happened to see an open room. The housekeeper 
must have just finished turning over the room and left the door 
open. It was a charming small suite with a kitchenette. It was 
nice and we continued onto the front desk. We spoke with the 
clerk about parking, availability and cost. He told us they had 
a new property that was a bit further out from Zocalo that was 
just built and open for only two weeks. It had on-site parking 
and cost less. It was worth considering, but we now had a 
reference point for lodging. 

After leaving the suites we walked up to a tourist information 
booth at the main plaza and I asked the young man stationed 
there if he spoke English (asking in Spanish of course). He said 
a little bit (in Spanish) and that was as close as we got to 
hearing English coming from him. We have heard many people say 
they speak a little English and then speak none of it to us. I 
suppose it is much like the Japanese studying English in school 
and they might use it with each other, but become intimidated 
when trying to use it with native English speakers. The same is 
also true with me when I am back in CA and try to engage a 
native Spanish speaker and hesitate to use my Spanish with them. 
That is something that is now part of my past after this trip as 
communications in Spanish has become exponentially easier for 
me, even with my limited vocabulary (which I am working on 
slowly but surely).

There was a reason to talk to the young man in the information 
booth. We were looking for the Mercado Publico and he told us 
where to find it. It was enormous and you could buy anything and 
everything you could imagine there and even some stuff you 
probably would not think of. We were impressed with the produce, 
the meats and the fish. We bellied up to a comedor (prepared 
food seller) counter inside the Mercado and ordered some fish 
stuff. We were right next to a fish seller tan had great looking 
stuff, including salmon and red snapper that we had not seen in 
country before save the giant supermarkets in the frozen 
section. Hiroko had a shrimp tostada and I had one with Pulpo 
(octopus) and we shared a bowl of sensational sopa mariscos 
(shellfish soup). I love taco (Japanese for polpo, not the flat 
bread like stuff) and Hiroko will rarely, if ever, touch the 
stuff. They gave us each one of those crispy taco tubes (I can't 
figure out how else to describe it) with chicken rolled up 
inside and some sour cream like substance on top as an 
appetizer. The food was really great and the very filling meal 
came to 110-Pesos, which was less than US$10 at today's exchange 
rate. 

After lunch we waddled our way back to our hotel to relax and 
fill some time before we headed out for the evening meal and the 
festivities we saw being prepared earlier in the day. We needed 
our walk back to our hotel to get rid of some of what we ate for 
lunch. Of course, it was time for some libation and relaxation 
once back at the hotel. We did the usual email stuff and I 
downloaded photos and uploaded the newly configured Mexico 
photos (without the Oaxaca stuff). The upload speeds were 
sufficiently slow that it took longer than expected, so it would 
have to be finished after our return from dinner.

We were walking around looking for sidewalk food, but the large 
sidewalk vender area that took up an entire city street the 
night before was not there this evening. Perhaps it was just a 
Friday event on the street. We walked past the alley where we 
ate the night before and headed to the secondary plaza near 
Sophia Suites. We were not eating in the alley again this night 
as the noise level with the competing musicians at adjacent 
restaurants was good only once. We walked the secondary plaza 
and the restaurants there were way overpriced and there was no 
spinach salad on any of the four menus I looked at or I would 
likely have ignored the prices. 

We found ourselves walking in the direction of the music once 
again and it was taking us back to where the fireworks display 
was happening this evening. We did not find an appealing 
restaurant along the way, so we circled the small plaza opposite 
the church and found only one place to eat: a small neighborhood 
tiny comedor (eatery). There was this cute young waitress (at my 
age  they are almost all cute) that was very attentive as there 
were only four tables in the place and there was only one other 
table occupied inside and one of the two outside on the sidewalk 
had an individual at it. We were directly across the street from 
the church where the evening festivities were well under way. 
For us the focus was the fireworks.

Hiroko wanted to eat light this evening as lunch was still with 
us to some extent. She ordered mushroom crepes and a cup of hot 
chocolate and I ordered a Caesar Salad and a beer. As a sidebar, 
I have consumed more beer on this trip than I have in the past 
two years. Partly because the water is suspect and if I am 
paying for a beverage, I want it to do more than just wet my 
throat. The food was fine and we finished and headed across the 
street. The first thing we noticed was the wood shaving art was 
gone. They swept it up as a prelude to setting off the 
fireworks. In retrospect that was logical. If they didn't get 
the stuff out of harms way, it would have gone up with the 
multitude of burning embers showering down on the area after 
each device was detonated. 

It was around nine thirty and we were told the fireworks action 
was going to commence at ten, so we decided to go for a walk 
through the neighborhood until the fireworks. We never made it 
out of the plaza. The show was on and we had a ringside seat. I 
might have been as close as fifteen feet from one of the large 
towers loaded with pyrotechnics. When this tower was lit up 
everyone near me, including Hiroko backed away from it. I just 
stood there. Later I mentioned that nothing worse than the oven 
episode could possibly happen to me there. 

The display was even nicer than what we saw up close and 
personal in Oaxaca. It was done and so were we. It was ten and 
we were headed back to the hotel for some rest as we were headed 
out in the morning. It was an uneventful walk back to the hotel, 
which was just fine with me. When we got back I finished 
uploading photos and web pages and it was good night. 


Fri. 17 Oct. 2008, Day 46 away from home, day 44 in country:

What a difference a sleepy town can make when you need to get 
some sleep. No barking dogs, no fireworks, nothing to disturb my 
sleep and the herbal 'sleepy-time' tea put me down for a 
wonderful night's sleep.
 
Even though it was a good night's sleep for both of us, we were 
still up before dawn. Considering it was a Friday and I have 
greater than normal newsletter responsibilities, I went to work 
rather early. I am also trying a new regimen where I get the 
weekly text to my editor on the East coast much earlier than I 
do when I am home. She very much appreciates this new timeline 
and I am trying to accommodate her and not tie up her early 
Friday afternoons as I used to do prior to this trip.
 
The financial markets were once again in chaos and that is all I 
care to discuss about work. This hotel had WiFi, but it was not 
strong enough in the room and I did most of my work in the 
garden, which could be a lot worse I suppose. The restaurant was 
open for breakfast at eight, and we were there not long after 
eight. Our habitacion included a continental breakfast, but we 
had a full breakfast instead. We both had our laptops in the 
restaurant and it was fine with us and we bothered nobody.
 
We got our act in gear and left the hotel around ten thirty. We 
were less than an hours drive to our next destination of 
Queretaro, so we decided to check out San Juan Del Rio, which 
was close to where we were and it was on our way. It was in some 
ways a modern city with the major street running through it from 
east to west just as nice as any in small-town USA. It ran 
through a very modern industrial area that included the names of 
some well know Japanese electronics and industrial companies. We 
were duly impressed.
 
We jumped off the road in the industrial area before reaching 
the Centro area. I wanted to sort of look around. We made it to 
El Centro and it was a very bustling and busy area. The city was 
not all that large as far as we knew, but it had a very 
comprehensive Mercado Publico, where you could buy whatever you 
needed an more. We did not spend much time in this town that was 
incredibly fond of rotisserie cooked chickens and we could not 
find a pandaeria (bakery). It did not take us long to decide to 
leave town after about a thirty minute walk. However, this town 
did peek my interest and we will be back to visit again 
sometday. Next stop: Queretaro!
 
Queretaro is a city of more than half a million people. As we 
approached this city we could not help but notice the extent of 
the urban sprawl and the subdivisions with zero lot-line homes 
and no yards to speak of. If you've ever been to New York or San 
Francisco you know what a zero lot-line situation is. The homes 
butt up against one another side-to-side with no space between 
the homes. It is the highest density you can achieve for home 
construction and that is how we have seen every subdivision in 
this country built.
 
Of course we did not have a good map of the city and as such we 
missed our exit off the freeway and had to drive some distance 
before we could turn around. Unfortunately, that cost us as we 
had to pay one toll when we got off the highway and the same 
toll again when we got back on to go the other way. Such is 
life. We did not miss our exit a second time and very quickly 
found our hotel as it was just off the highway.
 
As we approached the hotel and could see the exterior rather 
easily as it is a five story structure, and an unspoken element 
of concern crossed through both our minds. The exterior of the 
place was wanting from our perspective. Initially we tried to 
book two other places in El Centro, but neither could 
accommodate us, so this was our third choice and we were a bit 
concerned as we pulled into the driveway. As soon as we entered 
the lobby our concerns were gone as it was a very attractive and 
modern looking facility.
 
We check in, took the baggage out of the car and Hiroko headed 
up to the room with the bellman while I took the car down into 
the basement garage. We unpacked some stuff as we were staying 
here for two nights and then decided to shove off for Zocalo.
 
For a very large city the Centro area was relatively small but 
beyond attractive. We passed a large park by most standards. It 
took up one complete city block square. It had very well 
manicured shrubbery and had a distinctively European look and 
feel to it. We walked to Zocalo and walked all around Zocalo and 
were very impressed with what we saw. This was a very charming 
city and we were glad we were here. We walked, and walked and 
walked and I snapped and snapped and snapped. We happened upon 
some guys preparing a fireworks display. I asked them if it was 
for that evening and they said yes. I asked what time they would 
be setting it off and they said ten. I thanked them and we 
talked about returning that evening to watch it. 
 
After wearing ourselves out walking around a lot of, but not 
all, of Zocalo we headed back to the hotel for a breather and a 
rest before we made our way back out again for dinner. On our 
way back we returned to a bakery we saw on the way in and 
stocked up on our essentials: bread and cookies. Back at the 
room I finished up my blog for Thursday, worked on the weekly 
newsletters and then we were off and running again to Zocalo for 
dinner. 
 
We passed many appealing restaurants earlier in the day and 
there was one area that was particularly appealing. I did not 
know if we were going to eat there, on the plaza with the 
skeletons adoring the entrances to the restaurants or somewhere 
else. The possibility of eating street food was also in play. 
There was a particular area that Hiroko wanted to see in the 
dark and as we approached Zocalo the darkness was making a rapid 
advance over the city. The city was even more charming in the 
dark than it was during the day. 
 
We meandered our way down streets and alleys; through plazas and 
squares and then found ourselves in the area where they were 
going to set off the fireworks. We were drawn back there by 
following the sound of drumming that was reminiscent of Indian 
drumming, at least to my ears. We were thinking there was a 
parade going on, but instead it was traditional indigenous 
peoples dances being performed by the young, the old and 
everything in between. I knew it would be difficult to narrow 
down to only a few photos for the website of the dozens I took 
there. 
 
We wound our way thorough many beautiful areas of El Centro 
before Hiroko declared that she was ready for dinner. Of course, 
the declaration came while we were in an area devoid of any 
eateries. We made our way back to Zocalo and then found this 
alley with very reasonably priced restaurants and we moseyed up 
to one in for no particular reason other than I saw a spinach 
salad on the menu. If you've been following this blog, by now 
you are aware of my fondness for spinach. We picked a table away 
from the loudspeakers that the musician was using and we were 
right next to the pedestrian walk (no cars allowed) so we could 
do lots of people watching.
 
The food was great and inexpensive. We did not come close to 
finishing what we ordered. We only had an appetizer, a bowl of 
soup and an entrˇe for each of us. Hiroko did not want us to be 
wasteful and I said I just wanted to experience as many 
varieties of local foods as I could. She suggested that we go 
back to our usual routine of ordering only a single entrˇe. I 
agreed. I will refrain from talking about the good singer that 
left too early and the obnoxious one that was there too long. In 
spite of the lousy singer that was too full of himself, we 
enjoyed a great dinner at a very reasonable price. We were 
liking this city even more than we did before.
 
We slowly made our way back to the hotel and I was savoring the 
moment and recalling the day and the highlights of this city. So 
far there were no lowlights. We got back reasonably early and 
Hiroko asked if I wanted 'sleepy-time' tea and I said it was too 
early for that. She made me some chamomile tea and she was 
asleep before we could get the knockout tea going. I watched 
television for a short while and I was gone too. It was a full 
and delightful day. Oyasumi nasai (Japanese for goodnight).

Thu. 16 Oct. 2008, Day 45 away from home, day 43 in country:

Well, to say we were looking forward to this day is something 
akin to saying we enjoy a cross between a good deal of 
trepidation and high anxiety.  Today we were going to leave 
Puebla, try to drive s makeshift bypass around Mexico City and 
avoid the almost certain gridlock caused by half the city being 
torn up for road improvement projects ahead of the massive 
Bicentennial celebration taking part nationwide in about seven 
hundred days. I did not take a photo of it, but at the Zocalo in 
Oaxaca there is countdown clock showing the days, hours, minutes 
and seconds until the Bicentennial on September 16,  2010.
 
It was an okay night's sleep here in the business hotel in 
Puebla. Aside from the lack of air circulation, there were 
baking dogs in the neighborhood and the incessant explosions 
from fireworks going off into the late evening. I supposed it 
could have been worse.
 
The day got off to the wrong foot when we ordered a carafe of 
coffee for the two of us from the room service and we got a 
single cup. When Hiroko called down to find out what was up they 
said they had no carafes. I do not know about you, but if 
someone ordered something from me that I did not have on my 
menu, I would have told the person it wasn't available. Anyway, 
we got our second cup of coffee and I took a very long and very 
hot shower. The shower was a welcome change from the issues at 
the apartment in Oaxaca.
 
So, we got our act together and were off in the direction of 
Mexico City. As we were driving out of Puebla we were looking to 
our left in a westward direciton. There was this magnificent 
looking snow capped mountain that was not that far off in the 
distance. As we got closer to the mountain we had a better view 
of it and I was more than a bit surprised at what I saw. What I 
initially thought was clouds hovering near the summit turned out 
to be steam venting from what was obviously a volcano that was 
not really dormant. I wonder if that mountain was getting ready 
to blow its top. I have not heard or read about anything along 
those lines, but the thought was inescapable to me.

The highway between Puebla and Mexico City is the same one we 
were on before and it is a good road. It was smooth sailing 
until we approached the outskirts of Mexico City and stopped at 
a giant sized Soriana Supermarket. We got some bread, a small 
plastic electric crock-pot for making tea and coffee in our 
rooms (most places have not been providing an in-room 
coffeemaker) and a couple of mugs for our beverages. I didn't 
open the crock-pot box and examine it prior to paying for it and 
that was a mistake. When I got out to the car I took it out of 
the box and it was broken. I immediately went back into the 
store and got it exchanged for one that was intact.
 
So, we roll out of the parking lot and are immediately 
confronted with a confusing choice of which way to go. the 
problem was due to insufficiency of road direction signage, 
again. We made a choice that was the wrong one and we made a u-
turn in short order. We were on what we thought might be the 
right track, but were staring at a traffic nightmare due to road 
construction. Sound familiar? It was arduous and somewhat 
stressful knowing that we might be going the wrong way, and 
taking much too long in doing so. Complicating matters were the 
insane taxi and mini bus drivers (small bus service) that would 
weave in and out from an adjacent, parallel road that they would 
jump the median to get to, drive perhaps one hundred feet to 
pass maybe ten or fifteen cars and then jump back across the 
median again and muscle their way back into the single lane of 
traffic. This activity created the massive gridlock we were in. 
 
Eventually we got through the gridlock and were moving again. We 
did figure out that we were on the road we had intended to be on 
and we were going in the right direction. Of course there were 
other stretches of road closures due to construction and the 
weaving idiots causing more gridlock. We ultimately made it to 
open roadway and made our way through the intricate maze of 
roads we chose to go on to avoid having to go through Mexico 
City again. That would have been another traffic disaster like 
the ordeal we went through just over a month ago.
 
As we got to our exit and were ready to turn onto highway 57, 
some maniac driver was passing me on the shoulder of the road 
and had I not reacted quickly and steered away from him we would 
have had a major collision. Unfortunately, this nut-job's 
driving forced me to either miss our exit or crash. You know 
which choice I made. So now we are in gridlock traffic on a city 
street and not finding any of the usual "returnos" (u-turn 
areas). For some reason all the u-turn areas have been blocked 
off, so we could not go back in the other direction to get onto 
highway 57. Can you say frustration! I had a few choice words 
for the bastard that forced me to miss our exit. 
 
As the road we were on crossed over an overpass, made some turns 
and took us in a direction that we were unsure of how to recover 
from and had growing concerns, I made a hasty decision and 
jumped off the road and took a side street in the hopes of 
somehow finding our way back to where we needed to go. We had no 
idea what city we were in, no map of the area and no road signs 
to help us. Without stopping to ask for help or directions from 
a local I somehow managed to navigate to precisely where we 
needed to be. I will call it my internal GPS. We made it back to 
the highway 57 turnoff and were on our way to the small city of 
Tequisquiapan just outside of San Juan Del Rio and about forty 
kilometers from our next destination of Queretaro. 
 
We were headed to Tequisquiapan because Hiroko had read 
something written by an American couple that had toured all of 
Mexico and described this city as "the most livable" for 
American ex-pats, so we were going to check it out. The drive 
north form Mexico City on highway 57 was a breeze. This is one 
of the best roads we've driven on in this country. You could 
easily drive at 75 Mph (not Kph) to 80 Mph (120 Kph to 140 Kph) 
no problem for most of this drive. I will not self incriminate 
on how fast I was driving in the 110 Kph posted areas and not 
slowing down when we hit stretches of 80 or 90 Kph area.
 
We reached our destination right around the advertised check-in 
time for our hotel of three in the afternoon. We had reserved a 
"standard" room and the nice young woman, speaking perfect 
English, told us of our choices and we were given the key to 
look at the standard room. Habitacion Numero 13 was unlucky, not 
because of superstition, but because it was a shit hole. It was 
old and tired and had no air conditioning, but it did have large 
windows that would open. We walked back to the reception desk 
and asked to see our other options. We were taken to habitacion 
30 and said we will take it. It was a completely remodeled room 
with a modern upscale bathroom, very attractive king size bed 
and attractive modern furniture. For only twenty dollars more we 
wanted to have our creature comforts and not suffer in Numero 
13.
 
We unloaded the car, got settled in fairly quickly and set out 
to explore this town. I really cannot call it a "city" as it is 
very small. It was perfectly delightful. After walking around 
for only one hour it was easy to see that many people would find 
this place very livable for a Norte Americano. However, I told 
Hiroko there was no way I could live here. In spite of the town 
lacking the graffiti we had been seeing everywhere else, very 
affordable home prices and a delightful and charming atmosphere, 
there was something seriously lacking: entertainment, diversion 
and stimulation. We could drive to San Juan Del Rio about 
fifteen minutes away and be entertained, but if we lived in 
Oaxaca, we could walk to any venue we wanted to go to for 
recreation or entertainment.
 
Having established a mind set that would make it difficult for 
me to live in this town I did say that I would be perfectly 
delighted to come and stay here short-term for visits and a 
"getaway," as the place had lots of visual appeal and charm. It 
also had lots of charming restaurants to choose from. It also 
had a very complete Mercado Publico, albeit on the small side. 
It even had a very cute wine and cheese museum and sold both to 
passersby. It did not look like a place that the locals would 
shop at. 
 
We went back to the room and relaxed for a bit, I did some 
computer stuff and we hung out until it was time to go to 
dinner. We passed many restaurants during our afternoon street 
hiking, but I had only one in mind for dinner. I remembered it 
because it was in the Paseo, just off the Zocalo and I 
remembered it in part because it has a spinach salad on the 
menu. I do love my spinach salads and it is always my first 
choice for salads. Also, I remembered it because it was so 
charming, but not right on the Zocalo, so it was less likely we 
would be bothered by the poor beggars or poor natives trying to 
sell their wares while we were trying to eat our dinner. I am 
not insensitive to the plight of the poor Indians in this 
country. I would just prefer to not have it thrust in my face 
while I am trying to eat a meal. 
 
The meal was very enjoyable and the waiter was a nice gentleman 
that said he spoke a little English, but we never heard any of 
it beyond hello and thank you. The meal was great. We ordered 
more than we could finish, again, as I am trying to sample as 
many different "tipico" local dishes as possible in this 
country. We have been "in country" for more than a month and a 
half and I have yet to order anything that could be considered a 
typical North American dish, unless you want to call chicken-
rice soup (served with diced cilantro, onions and jalapeno 
chili) as a typical North American or Jewish style soup. 
 
We finished our dinner, and slowly strolled through the Zocalo 
area and peeked into the beautiful church and slowly made our 
way back to our habitacion. We made some in-room tea, had some 
cookies from our accumulated stash and it was not very long 
before we were asleep.


Wed. 15 Oct. 2008, Day 44 away from home, day 42 in country:

My last night in Oaxaca was anything but a good sleep. Moito was 
barking incessantly until about eleven. Worse than that, some 
scumbag set of some very loud explosive device (worse than an 
ashcan or cherry bomb from the old days) at four thirty in the 
morning. When we move back to Oaxaca, this neighborhood is not 
in consideration for places to live. The three bedroom one and a 
half bathroom furnished apartment across the street is a great 
deal, but not if you cannot sleep at night.
 
Of course that was not the only thing that went wrong that 
morning. We woke up to find no running water in the apartment! 
All water is gravity fed into residences here. The property 
owner pumps the city-supplied water to a tank on the roof and 
then gravity feeds it down to the apartment. The higher up the 
water tank is (and the fuller the tank is), the greater the 
water pressures becomes. When you let the tank run dry, as our 
landlord did, you have no water at all.
 
We could not flush the toilet; we could not bathe and we could 
not wash our personal possessions we used that morning to stow 
in the car for the trip that day to Puebla; our first leg of our 
sixteen day trip home. It was awful! I was up at four-thirty and 
did not notice it, but Hiroko noticed it right away when she 
awakened and tried to flush the toilet after it was flushed 
once.
 
Trying to be considerate we waited until after seven before 
Hiroko began knocking on the landlord's door, but there was no 
response to either of the attempts. I went out to the hose bib 
and tried to get water out of it and it worked. I dragged the 
hose through the front door of the apartment and through the 
living room to the toilet tank in the bathroom so we could at 
least flush the toilet. I asked Hiroko to yell out when the tank 
was full, but we never got that far. The hose ran dry to. I put 
the hose back and we just waited for William to emerge from his 
apartment. Obviously, we left the front door open so we could 
seem him walk by.
 
When he finally came by around eight we told him we had no water 
whatsoever. He said why didn't you tell me? We said we knocked 
on his door, but there was no reply. He scurried to get the 
water pumped up to the tank. While he was recoiling the hose on 
its holder he inadvertently unplugged the wireless modem so we 
were without water and without an Internet connection and I was 
trying to get all my stuff done and gone early so we can hit the 
road.
 
Eventually we got water, we got the Internet connection back and 
we got everything done and were only half an hour behind my 
projected departure schedule. So, if you want an apartment that 
never has adequate hot water for bathing, regularly runs out of 
water for the rental units, has the noisiest refrigerator in the 
world and a forgetful landlord that does not follow up on things 
he says he will, then let me know and I'll give you the contact 
information for the apartments owned by Willam and Nora 
Guttierez, the owners of La Casa de mis Recuerdos in Barrio 
Jalatlaco, Oaxaca, I'll give it to you.
 
So we finally get on the car fully packed and get our ass in 
gear and we are headed to our friend Anyez's house to give her 
the stuff we had that we are not taking home. Kitchen stuff 
mostly, but some foods also that we just could not bring 
ourselves to throw away. We make it to Anyez's place without a 
hitch. We delivered our stuff and made a hasty retreat. Anyez 
offered us some coffee, but I knew if we accepted we'd be there 
for more than an hour and we were ready to hit the road. 
 
I told Anyez that I thought it would take us perhaps five hours 
to make the drive to Puebla, where we would be spending the 
first night back on the road. She told me she knew of some 
people that made the drive in four ours. I said I was going to 
drive cautiously. We said our goodbyes and were on the road at 
eleven. We look forward to seeing our friend Anyez again soon.
 
My cautious driving lasted for about ten minutes. While on the 
way to Puebla we stopped for a fill-up of gas and then had a 
leisurely cup of coffee and spent about twenty to thirty minutes 
at the stop. In spite of that we still made it to Puebla in 
about three hours and forty minutes. Finding our hotel was not 
as easy as getting to the third or fourth largest city in Mexico 
depending on whose figures you use.
 
We had no agenda for our time in Puebla. It was just a stop over 
point as the drive to our next destination was too far to do in 
one day. We got situated in the room quickly and we were in a 
taxi headed downtown before long. We had the taxi drive take us 
to Cinco de Mayo parque first and then onto Zocalo. We were 
impressed by the monument to the heroes of the revolution, but 
did not stop there. We did stop for about ten minutes at the 
planetarium and the very unusual interactive museum of natural 
history. We must come back to that place when we have more time, 
like when we are living in Oaxaca.
 
We went to Zocalo and had no agenda, so we began to look for 
something to heat water in the room so we could make tea to go 
with our cookies. That was an unfulfilled desire. While walking 
around we saw a very appealing meat place to eat dinner and made 
note of where it was for a return later. After walking for more 
than an hour, and looking in many shops for an immersion heater 
for water, we went back to this restaurant for dinner.
 
You may have seen one of those Greek Gyro type restaurants that 
have meat on a large vertical skewer and the meat gets cooked in 
that position. What I found appealing about this place was that 
it looked like the meat was being cooked by a blowtorch. We 
ordered two different dishes for starters; one spicy beef and 
one pork. They were awesome. Then we ordered some quesadilla 
that turned out to be very different from anything we had seen 
before. The dish was with quesillo (Oaxacan stringy cheese) and 
it was also awesome. We were stuffed, but stopped to have a cup 
of coffee at a sidewalk cafˇ at the Zocalo. 
 
Some very enterprising shoeshine guy scammed me into letting him 
shine  my faux suede shoes. He did a saddle soap shampoo of then 
and then had the balls to ask me for 100 Pesos. I should have 
given him only twenty, but gave him fifty and sent him on his 
way. Very soon the rains were headed right for us and we 
finished our coffee, paid the check and went down the street to 
grab a cab. We were not quick enough as it began to rain heavily 
moments before we got into the cab. 
 
We soon stuffed ourselves back in a taxi and headed back to the 
hotel, bed and sleep. It was pretty early, so Hiroko did some 
stuff in the computer and I watched the end of the Philly and 
Dodgers game. I still like it when the Dodgers lose. I never 
forgave them for leaving Brooklyn when I was a young boy, 
although I must admit I like Joe Torre a lot and was glad to see 
him go to the playoffs with his first year with the Dodgers 
after the Steinbrenner clan screwed him over and forced him out 
of the New York Yankee organization. The Yankees still suck and 
Torre took a bad team last year to the playoffs this year. Way 
to go Joe!
 
It wasn't long before I was asleep and Hiroko was probably down 
before me thanks to modern chemistry. Hasta Manana.


Tue. 14 Oct. 2008, Day 43 away from home, day 41 in country:

Well, this was our last full day in Oaxaca and Hiroko simply ran 
out of places for us to explore or go on an adventure to. We 
took our time getting ready to go out and we decided to revisit 
the ruins at the Yagul site once again. 
 
I went to pick up our last load of laundry from Rosie. I told 
her we were leaving Oaxaca in the morning for our return trip to 
CA. Rosie asked me where Hiroko was and I told her she was back 
in the apartment. The dear sweet woman pulled out an embroidered 
dress for me to give to Hiroko as a gift from her. I was moved 
by the gesture.
 
Of course when we headed out to retrieve the car for our drive 
out east to Yagul on the road towards Mitla, we stopped by 
Rosie's Lavenderia so Hiroko could thank her. They exchanged 
pleasantries and Rosie wished us well. We left smiling and told 
each other how sweet Rosie was. We are going to miss her. Before 
fetching the car we stopped at Gary's tutorial center, bed and 
breakfast and apartment. We chatted for a while and told him 
we'd be interested in volunteering there when we moved here in 
the upcoming year. He is always looking for volunteers, 
especially native English speakers. Hiroko also said she could 
teach Japanese. He seemed intrigued at the idea. To be 
continued. 
 
As we were driving in the direction of Yagul we saw a sign for 
the Zoo and we had an instant change of plans. The zoo was a 
little past the Yagul turnoff and a little before Mitla. We 
followed the signs and said aloud to each other we hoped there 
was more to the place than cattle, sheep and goats. 
 
We found the zoo (they spell it xoo) and we were the only ones 
there that were not employees. It was a hot Tuesday and we guess 
not too many people go out there on a weekday as there were work 
crews and maintenance crews doing all sorts of stuff. We got to 
see the usual array of mammals include some raccoons, which we 
see all too often at home, so that was no big deal. They did 
have a nice collection of animals that seemed to be well fed and 
most were kept in humane enclosures that gave them room to roam 
with a few notable exceptions like some small cats. 
 
Something odd was happening when we came upon the enclosures of 
some of the larger predatory animals. As we were walking by the 
enclosures they were following us sniffing the air as though 
they came upon some pray. At first I dismissed Hiroko's 
reactions as just being a little over anxious about things. 
However, the more it happened, the more noticeable it was to me. 
It began with a large Bengal tiger seeming to stalk us and when 
a huge white tiger became very agitated with my taking his 
picture we moved on fairly quickly. I did not think the barrier 
was tall enough to keep him in if he set his mind to jumping it.
 
The grizzly bear became very interested in us and really was not 
even one bit aloof about it. Hiroko was calmed somewhat by the 
electrified fence around the enclosures, but we have no idea if 
the power was on or not. She would have made a nice snack for 
that big bear. It was getting hot and we ran out of stuff to 
see, so we were back in the car and headed back to town for 
lunch.
 
On the way out we decided to stop in the Barrio Reforma and look 
around and while there we'd go back to Prissas so I could stock 
up on enough gin for the return drive back to CA. We had set 
aside sixteen days to make the return journey with some cities 
having multiple day stays so we could visit and explore. We got 
the gin and then changed plans from going to the big meat 
selling and cooking Mercado to a local restaurant in San Filipe 
(it could have been the reforma barrio too) we passed a few 
times and found interesting. It was a carne (meat) house too.
 
We ordered chicken soup (every restaurant has it on the menu), 
cheviche and what might have been tri-tip al la Mexicana. The 
chicken soup was good, the cheviche had some fire in it and the 
meat dish was great. As usual we shared everything and were full 
when we were done. We made it back to the apartment and then had 
to hoof it down to the local Mercado to stock up on a few things 
for the road trip tomorrow. While there I remembered one vender 
selling imported boxed sweets and I immediately told myself to 
find that vendor, hoping they were open and buy a box for Rosie. 
We got our provisions, the candy vendor was open, we got what we 
needed and headed back to the apartment for the last time.
 
We stopped at the lavenderia, but nobody was there as it was at 
the very end of siesta time. We figured we'd come back later. We 
went to the apartment and began packing. Ugh! This month went by 
much too fast. We packed, we drank and we got into our computers 
to pass the time. We went back and gave Rosie our small gift of 
appreciation. It nearly brought tears to her eyes. The exchange 
of gifts for the two ladies made me feel really good. I love the 
idea of fighting the "Ugly American" syndrome in foreign lands 
one person at a time. 
 
While sitting at the computer I did some calculating this 
evening as a prelude to doing my thing with the photos shot 
today. We have driven over 5,500 miles since we pulled out of 
our driveway some forty-three days ago. Today we filled the gas 
tank in preparation of our departure tomorrow. It cost us US 
$2.37 per gallon to fill up today. The locals are in arms 
because some of the government officials are considering 
privatizing the oil and gas industry here. Of course that will 
likely raise their price of gas by at least 50% in the name of 
expanding their exploitation capacity. Would you care to wager 
how much of that would somehow find its was into the pockets of 
the corrupt officials here?
 
So, we have our dinner of soup and salad and I take the car back 
to the lot for the last time. The apparent owner, her daughter, 
her granddaughter and her great granddaughter were all there. I 
have been having so much fun with the one-year old girl whenever 
we meet. I must have played with the little girl for at least 
ten minutes tonight and the baby and all her elders were 
thoroughly entertained. When I told the owner I was leaving for 
good in the morning she could not believe a month had passed by 
so quickly. That is the same feelings Hiroko and I have been 
having. 
 
As I walked back to the apartment I could not help but notice a 
huge full moon making its presence known to everyone and it was 
a clear crisp night with a smattering of clouds here and there. 
I got back to the apartment and asked Hiroko if she'd like to go 
for a walk. We went to "our park" and sat for a while, then 
strolled for a while and then came across a very curious guy we 
have been hearing for a month.
 
This young man has a steamer on a bicycle and he blows a whistle 
with the steamer every few minutes. For a full month we had no 
clue why. Tonight I went up to him and told him I would like to 
take his picture. He said no. Then he went on to say he was 
there to sell his plantain (bananas). I bought some and then he 
told me I could take his picture. The plantain were just okay, 
but well worth the price to finally satisfy our curiosity of 
what the whistle blowing was all about. After that it was back 
to the apartment, a cup of tea and off to bed. It was a perfect 
stay in Oaxaca with the notable exception of the damn noisy 
refrigerator we had to deal with.


Mon. 13 Oct. 2008, Day 42 away from home, day 40 in country:

It was not a good night's sleep last night. We went down okay, 
thanks to that great tea, but Moito was outside in the street 
barking at one in the morning and it got both of us up. After 
that episode, it was an up and down sleep.
 
The bond and credit markets were closed for Columbus Day while 
the stock markets were open. Would anyone like to explain that 
to me? Any questions why there is the opportunity for chaos in 
our financial markets? When our own financial markets cannot 
agree on whether or not to close on a "national holiday" it is 
beyond bizarre to me. Anyway, no bond market activity, no need 
to worry about newsletters or the stock markets today, even 
thought they surged to the largest single day point gains for 
the Dow and the S & P indices.
 
We had no plan for the day, so we got off to a really slow 
start. I know Hiroko just wanted to take it as easy as possible 
because I was about to do a lot of driving beginning Wednesday. 
She tends to worry about too many thing in my direction. Three 
thousand miles to drive in any length of time admittedly is a 
long way, but it is not bad if you are doing it over a period of 
sixteen days. We decided to give a go at trying to get a sense 
of what the Mercado Abastos was all about and how to find stuff 
there. From there we would go to a small village near Monte 
Albon that is noted for its pottery and ceramics.
 
We got to Abastos and we could not figure out which end was up, 
much less where it was how to find what we were shopping for. 
After walking around literally in circles for half an hour we 
threw in the towel and headed back to our car. This complex of 
retail and wholesale merchants literally swallowed up several 
cit blocks it is that sprawling. The Oaxacan city streets that 
have fallen into the sprawl of the massively large market 
complex have simply become parking lots and loading & unloading 
areas for trucks of all sizes, shapes and capacities. When I 
return to Oaxaca to live, I will likely spend weeks trying to 
map out what is where. It might take a bit of GPS assistance 
because once you are within the bowels of this disorganized maze 
of endless winding corridors, you rapidly lose any and all sense 
of direction as there are no reference points to be seen; not 
even the sun or the clouds moving by, when they are there. It 
could become a massive project for me and one I am looking 
forward to.

Getting to Santa Maria was not exactly a piece of cake either. 
Our map suggested we take a road off the direct route to Monte 
Alban. When we got to Monte Alban we knew that was not the right 
move. 
 
We backtracked to a road that ultimately took us into Santa 
Maria. We stopped at a ceramics store and were surprised at the 
exorbitant prices. The place was laid out by the crafts persons 
that made the ceramics for sale. It was almost like an artists 
coop. It was obvious to me that the artists made the prices for 
their work and I can attest to the difficulties an artist has in 
placing a vale on their work. We were not at this ceramics 
outlet very long. 

We strolled through the nearly vacant streets of this sleepy 
town leaving the car in front of the nearly empty ceramics 
outlet. We walked through downtown and passed a shepherd and his 
flock of goats and then walked to the church and courtyard and 
looked around at this beautiful blue and white church complex 
complete with a school, the municipal building and a public 
library. I have been very impressed with the numbers of free 
libraries we have seen in this country. It is good to know that 
the authorities have placed an emphasis on education and 
learning for everyone.

We began the several blocks walk backed towards the car. As we 
were ready to make the turn at a corner to go the last block or 
so to the car still parked at the ceramics coop along came a 
small herd of cattle walking down the main street with their 
shepherd and the dogs pretty much keeping them going in the 
right direction. Of course the bulls were in the lead. They were 
followed within seconds by a small flock of goats headed in the 
same direction. We were in this town for a very short time and 
saw more animals on the street than people or vehicles.
 
Okay, done with this brief show here in Santa Maria, we were 
headed to Sorniano market for what will likely be our last trip 
there. We wanted a lime squeezer, more sleepy time tea and some 
crackers for the cheese we'd be eating on the road in a few 
days. Of course I tried a new route for the first time. Partly I 
wanted to see if I could find a bypass around Centro to get to 
the South end of town. We knew the Northern bypass already. 
Naturally, we came up to bumper-to-bumper crawling traffic. It 
was another one of those lane closures due to road repairs. 
Unlike back in the states where they work on major thoroughfares 
at night, here it is all done during the working hours. 

After a bit of u-turning and confusion we managed to find our 
way to the Soriano Supermarket and got what we needed. Mission 
accomplished and we headed back to the apartment. 
 
Okay, back at the homestead we parked the car and got going 
towards downtown. We stop first at Gary's tutorial center to see 
him and what he was doing, but he was not there. We said we'd be 
back. Next we went to Zocalo and then to the large Mercado south 
of the Zocalo. We bought some quesillo, which is the cheese like 
mozzarella only saltier as opposed to queso, which is crumbly 
stuff.  We then made our way to the smaller Mercado on the next 
block and bought some bread. We sort of meandered out way back 
towards the apartment and stopped at Gary's place again (he is 
the guy we met last night at the El Rosario fiesta fireworks 
display). He still was not in. Tomorrow is another day. 
 
We went back to the apartment and get busy with stuff. I had to 
take our last load of laundry to Rosie's and I got into playing 
with her three dogs. Rosie and her older daughter were very 
entertained with my interactions with their dogs. So was I. 
Those three small poodles are darling and very people friendly. 
that is unusual in a town and country where most dogs are averse 
to interacting with humans as if they were seriously abused by 
people at some point in their life. 
 
Back at the apartment we had diner and I revamped and 
reorganized the photos for the website as I was over 900 photos 
already and it was becoming a bit unwieldy. I decided to split 
out the Oaxaca and surrounding area photos from the rest of our 
Mexico visits. That took a while. After dinner I wanted to go 
out and do what would likely be my last night shooting in 
Oaxaca. Tomorrow evening would likely be for packing and 
organizing for our Wednesday morning departure from here. 
Bummer!
 
Initially I told Hiroko I would prefer that I go out alone for 
my night shooting. I changed my mind and told her to come along, 
but in retrospect I should not have. She was yawning and was 
really tired. I cut it off short and we headed back to the 
apartment for sleepy time tea and our pillows.


Sun. 12 Oct. 2008, Day 41 away from home, day 39 in country:

We both slept like corpses overnight thanks to a cool night and 
that great tea. I was up first and when I got out of bed and saw 
that it was 7:30 AM, my immediate thought was, GET THE CAR! I 
got dressed and made my way to fetch the car so we would not be 
locked out again. We had no plan for the day and Hiroko 
suggested that we leave the car there and stay in town today and 
take it easy. I said we could decide to do that, but I wanted 
the car just in case we wanted to use it. It could sit out on 
the street by the apartment all day if need be without a 
problem.
 
I got back and began to work with my photos. We were both into 
our computers and Hiroko asked if I was ready for breakfast and 
I said sure. It was another one of those great veggie and cheese 
omelets. We finished breakfast and took our time getting ready 
to go to the Mercado for our daily ritual. I jumped in the 
shower, Hiroko decided to hand wash the dress she bought a few 
weeks ago to shrink it (she is a master at doing that 
intentionally and otherwise).
 
We finally got into gear and went to our local Mercado. On our 
way we saw a street closed off and flags hanging, which usually 
means a fiesta is about to break out. We decided to investigate. 
All we saw was a crew getting a fireworks display ready and some 
disassembled children's rides just down the street. I knew 
nothing was going to happen for quite a while, so we continued 
on to the Mercado.
 
We needed very little and so from the Mercado we decided to take 
a walk to "our park" near the apartment. On the way we walked by 
the soon-to-be street fiesta and asked the fireworks crews when 
they were setting them off. They said at nine. Hiroko asked a 
gentleman where they were setting up an alter for the church 
when everything was going to be taking place and he said at 
five. We knew we would be back sometime between five and nine. 
 
 
We got to "our park" and saw some entertainment going on. We 
walked over and there were some dancers doing the old Lindy Hop 
and doing it quite well. There were four couples and they were 
having as much fun as the audience. This event was sort of a 
health fare with many white-jacketed men and women doing things 
like taking blood pressure, giving our brochures on healthy 
eating habits and there were venders showing their healthy food 
products and beverages. This made me pleased that we are seeing 
both "green" and health consciousness happening here. It may 
only be a beginning, but these things need to start somewhere. 
 
We walked to the other small park another block west and there 
was nothing happening there, so we headed back to the apartment. 
After we unloaded our stuff from the local Mercado we decided to 
go to the large Mercado south of Zocolo. As we were walking 
through the park Hiroko happened to notice something on the 
other end of the park just as we were about to leave it. We 
walked over and were greeted with a wonderful surprise. There 
was a symphony orchestra just beginning to play. The orchestra 
was surrounded by camera crews from the local Oaxacan television 
station.  They just started to play as we approached.  We sat 
down and listened to the music and I shot copious amounts of 
photos. 
 
I could not think of a nicer way to spend a portion of a Sunday 
afternoon in the park listening to a world-class orchestra 
playing. The conductor was exceptionally animated and it was 
very entertaining to watch him. We were perhaps fifteen to 
twenty feet away from him. There were a few hundred folding 
chairs set up in front of the orchestra and it was great. There 
was a trumpet solo that was extraordinary. I never heard anyone 
play triple time and quadruple time on a trumpet the way this 
young man did for perhaps ten minutes.
 
Of course, Hiroko and I were particularly surprised when the 
orchestra did a medley of Lennon-McCartney tunes. They were 
really good and we were really enjoying ourselves. The thought 
kept crossing my mind that what a wonderfully cultured place 
this is for a city of a population of only a quarter million. In 
spite of the lack of nightlife I am quite confident I could live 
hear comfortably and looking forward to trying that next year. 
 
The concert was over and we headed toward the large Mercado in 
search of lunch. We had it in our mind that we wanted a tamal 
and that was what we were looking for and found in the small 
eatery in secondary Mercado a block over from the large Mercado. 
We ordered a tamal and then a quesedia and I had a beer while 
Hiroko drank water. After lunch we made our way to our bakery to 
restock our cookie supply as I have been running through them 
quite efficiently lately. We also got some bread and were off to 
the bookstore. 
 
Hiroko was in search of a cookbook about local cuisine. I sat on 
the street and did one of my favorite sports here: people 
watching. She found the book she was after and looked it over, 
but chose not to buy it. When I asked why she said it was thick 
and she'd buy it when we moved down here rather than dragging it 
north and then south again. That made perfect sense to me. We 
headed back to the apartment and arrived there at four thirty. 
Hiroko said it was close enough to five and poured herself a 
glass of wine. I told her that we were on holiday and the bar 
was open 24/7.
 
I got into my blogging as I had fallen behind due to activities 
and stuff. Hiroko had been perturbed ever since yesterday by 
this rather large winged grasshopper in the atrium. It was a 
magnificently colored black and yellow creature with pale mint 
green wings. When she went out to check on her dress drying on 
the clothes line I set up, she was bothered because the creature 
was perched atop of her dress. I swatted it down and a short 
while later I grabbed it gingerly by its wings and threw it up 
into the air in the direction of the lowest area of the roof and 
it got the message and flew away unharmed. 
 
Moments later it got darker rapidly and then the sky opened up 
with a torrential downpour. It is October and the rainy season 
is supposed to be over, but it rained like hell for about twenty 
minutes then stopped. We hope the fireworks did not get doused. 
I did my blogging and Hiroko was web surfing and stuff. We were 
into our own things for a while when she stopped what she was 
doing and made a salad for dinner. I decided the fish would wait 
for tomorrow as it was hard frozen and anther day in the freezer 
didn't matter. I wanted to catch up on my blogging before I 
downloaded the photos I shot today because I know as soon as I 
start in with that the blogging will be delegated to second 
position. 
 
We ate soup and salad, a favorite combo of ours, and went back 
to doing our stuff. We were headed out to the festival at about 
eight or so and Hiroko decided to take a shower before we left, 
as it got sweaty today. It was the hottest day we have 
experienced in Oaxaca so far. Whie she was showering I figured 
why not take the car back at eight when the lot opened again for 
three hours and then we'd walk down the street to the fiesta. It 
was a good plan, except the lot did not open at eight as it was 
supposed to. No problem, we parked at the curb and went to the 
fiesta figuring we'd park the car in the lot later.
 
The fiesta was probably running on Mexican time as they were 
behind schedule. Perhaps the rain delayed things. When we got 
there nothing much was happening, but some guy had his hand 
firmly on the microphone and was talking up a storm non-stop. 
Finally after about fifteen minutes he introduced the first of 
several dance acts we had the pleasure of watching. It is likely 
there were others before we got there. 
 
Most of the dancers were youngsters as you can easily see from 
the photos. However, they tried really hard and did really well. 
We were not expecting a professional dance troupe and we were 
still very entertained.  There were several other dance routines 
and the audience, as well as Hiroko and I, gave the youngsters a 
warm round of applause after each performance.
 
We were anxiously awaiting the fireworks display. The fireworks 
crew had set up a large tower loaded with pyrotechnics and we 
wanted to see them set those babies off, so we hung around until 
the bitter end. It was supposed to start at nine, but at nine 
thirty things began to happen. I could write for a long time 
about what we saw this evening, but I'll let the photos do the 
talking for me. We got to see the fireworks up close and 
personal. We were no more than twenty feet from the tower and 
had to dodge burning embers as they fell on the large crowd. I 
was standing in the back of a pickup truck parked right at the 
corner so I could get an unimpaired view of the display when it 
went off.

 I was in the back of the truck and Hiroko on the sidewalk near 
it. She was standing next to a gentleman that appeared to be in 
his fiftys and he was with what appeared to be his aged mother. 
He saw and heard me interact with Hiroko from the top of the 
truck bed and out of the blue he offered me an orange. After 
some of the performances earlier people near the stage were 
tossing fruit and candy into the crowd. There were also serving 
food to the crowd, without charge, after the last three 
performances. I thought it was such a delightful community 
event. Perhaps the gentleman got the orange that way, but that 
is of no matter. Generosity to a stranger is generosity, period. 
I expressed my appreciation and shared the orange with Hiroko.
 

As the fireworks drew to a close there was a gentleman standing 
next to Hiroko I had seen earlier speaking in English with 
another man. It was obvious that English was his native tongue 
from his speech patterns. I asked the man where he was from and 
he said he lived around the corner. He said they do this fiesta 
here every year and it is always good. After chatting briefly he 
told me he moved down here from San Francisco seventeen years 
ago. He has a tutoring clinic for the local children that 
established and runs. He does not charge to the students any 
fees. He owns a bed and breakfast and an apartment unit that 
pays the fees of the tutors that teach the children. His name is 
Gary and he invited us to visit his tutoring clinic around the 
corner. We will try our best to get there before we leave town 
Wednesday.

We thoroughly enjoyed the church band playing music while the 
fireworks were going off. They went on for close to half an 
hour. At the end we made our way back to the car, put it in the 
lot and walked back to the apartment. Hiroko made us some of the 
sleepy time tea and it was another full and pleasurable day.


Sat. 11 Oct. 2008, Day 40 away from home, day 38 in country:

It was a typical Saturday morning except I had a bit of 
newsletter work to do. I dispatched it rather rapidly and then 
it was a mad scramble to get the car. 
 
Before we realized how quickly the time was flying by it was 
five after ten in the morning. The parking lot where we 
contracted for a month has abbreviated hours on the weekend and 
we did not remember what the times were that we had to get the 
car today or be locked out. So we dashed over to the lot and it 
was open. We have only one more day to remember to get the car 
out while they are open. 
 
We got there, retrieved the car and made it back to the 
apartment. It was then off to the Mercado for our usual morning 
restocking of provisions. We got back to the apartment, stowed 
our stash of goods and made ready to go meet up with Anyez at 
her house. We were early, so we decided to go walk around Ville 
de Etla before going to visit with Anyez.
 
It was an uneventful drive to Etla and we parked fairly close to 
the Mercado. It was hard to imagine this was the same town that 
we saw bustling a few weeks earlier. We walked the two short 
blocks to the Mercado and got some oranges and some cilantro. We 
walked out and into the church courtyard and noticed the 
unusually large bell in one of the bell towers. It must ring 
really loudly. 
 
The inside of the church was beautiful to my eyes. It was not at 
all ostentatious like many of the other large churches in the 
area. I commented to Hiroko that this church was for the people 
and not for the aggrandizement of the priests. The walls were 
painted white with some blue painted patterns that were nice, 
but not overdone at all. It had none of the trappings the other 
large churches had such as golden things all over and gilded 
statues. This was elegantly modest.  At least that was the 
impression of a Jewish-Buddhist. My older sister Sanda once 
referred to me as a JewBu. I liked the sound of that.
 
We discovered a very large and long aqueduct not far from the 
market and we walked the length of it. It was still being used 
for the transport of water only now they laid a pipe on top of 
it and it went for a long way, made a left turn near the main 
highway and continued on even if we didn't. We walked back to 
the Mercado area and while walking we decided to drive out a 
road that is marked as pointing towards an ecotourism area some 
thirteen kilometers out. We made it back to the car and were on 
our way.
 
We had almost an hour until our one meeting at Anyez's, so we 
figured we had more than enough time to drive thirteen 
kilometers to see what was there. As we started up the road we 
came upon another one of those subdivisions with most of the 
units appearing to be empty. The layout was remarkably similar 
to what we saw out in the middle of nowhere only this place is 
within fifteen kilometers of Oaxaca. That is a short drive to 
Oaxaca, even with traffic. We passed through the village of San 
Geranimo and there were many speed bumps on this route. 
 
When we got passed a second small village we ran out of paved 
road and were going up the mountains on a very narrow dirt road 
with a steep drop off the road and into the canyon below if you 
missed a curve. With tires bouncing on this rocky unpaved road 
it was essential to drive slowly or risk missing one of those 
curves. We drove and drove and drove and the dirt road got even 
more windy and narrow. I was becoming concerned that we did not 
know where it would end and we did have an appointment to meet 
with someone. As soon as I found a spot in the road wide enough 
to where I thought I could make a u-turn I did.
 
We drove down the mountain slowly and slowly made our way back 
to the highway and towards Anyez's place. Much to the amazement 
of Hiroko I drove directly to the house of Anyez without missing 
a turn. Keep in mind she lives in a field on a road with no name 
and her house has no number or address. I guess that will make 
it difficult to mail her anything. 
 
Anyez offered us some tea or coffee and we accepted. She went 
off into the kitchen and I went into whatever room it was 
supposed to be or will become and got to work on her computer to 
get her connected to the Internet. I took things as far as I 
could go as her service provider had not yet hooked up her DSL 
service in the switching station. I got the router set up and 
got her wireless connection talking with the router. Now all she 
needed was for the phone company to complete their internal 
connections for her.
 
While drinking our coffee Anyez asked what we would like to do; 
perhaps a hike? We said yes, but we could not do the rugged one 
because Hiroko was wearing inappropriate shoes for an off road 
hiking excursion. I suggested that we could hike up to San 
Agustin, work up an appetite and then go to lunch. Everyone 
agreed and Anyez insisted on buying lunch even before we left. I 
said fine. Why should we always have the pleasure of treating 
someone else to a meal?
 
It was a very pleasant walk up to San Agustin. We made it up to 
the old textile factory and walked down the backside of the area 
and towards lunch. We had a choice of two places and picked the 
wrong one. Anyez does not eat the flesh of mammals and she 
ordered a chicken dish and got a pork dish instead. The waitress 
gave us no utensils for eating anything but the soup we had 
first (the soup was lukewarm at best) and then they took almost 
forever to bus the dirty dishes off the table. Anyez was getting 
frustrated when the waitresses were ignoring her when she was 
beckoning them. We finally got someone to come over, clean up 
and tell us what was owed so we could leave. 
 
It was a pleasant stroll back down the hill to Anyez house and 
we chatted until her contractor showed up to do some work and 
then we said our goodbyes and headed back to town. At the risk 
of repeating myself, we both enjoy her company.
 
By the time we got back to the apartment it was nearly six. We 
had our evening libation and relaxed for a while. I did some 
photo stuff and Hiroko did some research for places to stay on 
the return trip north. We booked a few hotels for the trek back 
and had just a salad for dinner. Perhaps it is time to make our 
stomachs a bit smaller again.
 
It was our last weekend night in Oaxaca after being here almost 
a month and not really ever going out in the evening save once 
when we first went to The Fly. I wanted to go to La Mata in San 
Filipe to do some dancing. Hiroko was tired, but agreed to go. 
The walk up there was a little longer than I remembered, but we 
made it okay. When we got there it did not look as though it was 
open. There were eight or so not very pleasant looking guys 
sitting in the area in front of the joint and there was no music 
to be heard coming out of what was supposed to be a disco. 
Admittedly it was early and we did not like the sarcastic reply 
one of the guys gave us when we asked if they were open and we 
split unceremoniously. 
 
Hiroko wanted to head back to the apartment and I wanted to go 
to The Fly. We were off to The Fly. As tired as Hiroko was, she 
was being a sport. We got there at about ten and the jazz trio 
was just about to begin playing. The vocalist shouted over to me 
that she went to my website, saw her photo there and thanked me. 
I ordered two shots of mescal and Hiroko ordered a Mexican 
coffee, which consists of a cup of coffee and a shot of Kahlua. 
It took ordering her drink twice, but it finally came.
 
The bartender that I chatted with the other night came out and 
waved to me from the back of the house. When Armando, the owner 
and the bartender's roommate came out I asked him what his 
roomie's name was and he told me Arturo. Arturo came out later 
and said hello and I thanked him for pointing me to Prissas, the 
wine and liquor store in San Filipe. 
 
Hiroko was wilting rapidly as I had two more shots of mescal in 
front of me. I was really enjoying the singing of the lady in 
the trio and knew how tired Hiroko was, so we wrapped things up 
fairly quickly and then we headed back to the apartment. Hiroko 
made us some of the sleepy time tea and it was lights out fairly 
rapidly drawing another good day to a close.


Fri. 10 Oct. 2008, Day 39 away from home, day 37 in country:


I had a good night's sleep last night and I needed it for Friday 
is always a busy day for me. Weekly newsletters always make for 
a busy Friday for me and we had plans to meet with my Sangha 
buddy Anyez at one, so it was going to be a challenging day. 
 
I got the weekly text out much earlier than normal and we 
actually got out of the apartment relatively early considering 
it was a Friday. We went to our Mercado and got our daily stuff 
and then headed out to find the organic market near the aqueduct 
not far from our apartment. We found it and also found some 
obscenely great pastries, cookies and brownies. We have been 
really bad these days with consuming pastries, but it is 
holiday, even if it is lasting two months. You only live once, 
right?
 
We met up with Anyez under the trees at Santo Domingo church. 
While trying to decide what we wanted to do with the afternoon, 
we figured we'd discuss it over coffee at Neuvo Mundo, the place 
that makes the best coffee in town, bar none. You can stand at 
the counter and watch them roast the coffee in the back. The 
smell is heavenly.
 
We sat for quite some time and invited Anyez to join us for the 
large meal of the day at our apartment. She accepted and we were 
happy about that. We must have talked for over an hour in the 
cafˇ and then we headed out to Anyez's bank. Apparently she lost 
her ATM card and needed a replacement. She didn't want us to go 
with her, as she did not know how long she would be tied up with 
the bureaucracy of the bank. We insisted on going with her and 
had a nice long walk over there and chatted all the way. 
 
Hiroko and I kept ourselves busy with our dictionaries learning 
new vocabulary and we waited while Anyez attended to her 
business. It took a little longer than Anyes thought it would 
and apologized to us for that. We said not to worry that the 
time passed fast enough and we were not on a time sensitive 
schedule. 
 
After the bank we went to a natural food store south of the 
Zocalo and near the large Mercado. After being frustrated by not 
finding more of that great tea for sleeping at Soriana I sent an 
email to the manufacturer and they gave me the address of two 
shops in downtown that carried it. So we were headed there and 
of course Anyez was very familiar with that place. 
 
When we got there I was disappointed that they only had one 
package of the stuff. I got it and made a mental note to go to 
the other store to see if I could load up on the stuff before we 
left town. In the worst-case scenario I can buy it from their US 
distributor in San Antonio, Texas when I get home. We also found 
some gorgeous looking organic lettuce. Anyez bought some too and 
we were off and running. We decide to go get Anyez's car first 
and then drive to the apartment so it would be easier for her 
when it was time for her to go home. 
 
It was nothing more than some beverages; my soup reheated an 
outstanding salad and great conversation for dinner. For desert 
we hit the brownies pretty hard along with the outstanding 
chocolate chip cookies and some tea. It was a delightful dinner 
and visit with Anyez. She left before dark as driving at night 
can be treacherous. We planned on going to her house on Saturday 
because Anyez needed some help in setting up her new modem and 
laptop so she could surf the net and get her email at home. 
 
It was a perfectly delightful afternoon and early evening with 
our friend from Berkeley. After Anyez left we made it an early 
evening. I was too tired to complete my work with the weekly 
newsletters and tomorrow is another day.


Thu. 9 Oct. 2008, Day 38 away from home, day 36 in country:

We were out early today. It was difficult to read about the 
unwinding of the global financial markets, so I was glad to get 
out early. While the smug and arrogant Republicans in the House 
of Representatives delayed the passage of the bailout bill for 
more than a week under the pretense of "protecting taxpayers 
interests," they may have helped facilitate this unwinding of 
the global financial markets and the throwing of the North 
American economy into a protracted recession. Remember this when 
you go into the voting booth on November 4th.
 
As has become our regular routine we walked to our local Mercado 
to get our daily provisions of fresh fruit and vegetables. 
Having taken care of that we were off to fetch the car and made 
it to our first destination of the day, San Bartolo Coyotepec. 
This town is noted for its black ceramics and we read about a 
museum there we wanted to see. We had driven through this town 
several times on our way south as highway 175 runs right through 
it. We had to slow down and look each time we passed through it 
before, as there are large speed bumps in the middle of the 
primary intersection of town where the municipal building is. We 
do not recall ever seeing much of anything going on when we 
passed by before, but what the heck.
 
We drove there uneventfully and drove around the central plaza 
and all the merchant stores that were supposed to be selling 
their famed ceramics appeared to be closed. It was midweek 
during the off-season, so I guess with very few touristas around 
it perhaps made sense for them to be doing something else. After 
going full circle (I should say full rectangle) we parked in 
front of the museum. There was only one other private vehicle (a 
truck being used for construction) on the street and a municipal 
policia vehicle. 
 
Much to our surprise the museum was a lot more than we expected 
from this sleepy little village. The collection of art there 
from the region encompassed much more than just the local 
ceramics. There was a video of a famed jewelry maker from Oaxaca 
doing his thing and many other art mediums there in addition to 
that. We even saw some of the art of Claudia Martinez Vargas, 
whose art studio we had visited in Oaxaca one Sunday with our 
landlords William and Nora. We thought we would only be in the 
museum for a short time and were there for more than an hour. 
That did include our visit to the tienda (museum store).
 
I had seen something that I wanted buy as a gift for someone, 
but Hiroko thought we should walk around town first to see if 
anything was available and if we did not find anything we could 
return. After all, we were parked right in front of the place. 
Cleaver girl. We did manage to find many open shops off the main 
street. There was a remarkable jeweler working in brass. Hiroko 
commented we would be back when we were living here and had a 
better grasp of the language so we could be better at 
negotiating prices. We also saw some beautiful and unique 
looking ceramics that will adorn our residence when we move 
here. 
 
We happened to cross paths with the local tortilla lady walking 
around with her basket full of fresh tortillas balanced on her 
head as she made her rounds. Snap Snap. She was standing in the 
entryway of a shop selling ceramics beckoning someone to come 
out, but nobody did. I guess there is no theft problem here as 
their store and all the merchandise was sitting out in the open 
shop. It was heartening to know that crime is not pervasive 
everywhere. 
 
We made our way down a long street following some large signs 
inviting people to this ceramics store. You could see the main 
sign at the entrance from blocks away. As we approached we could 
see there was a parking lot and that made the large signs on 
highway 175 and in town more understandable. When we turned into 
the parking lot we immediately realized this place was set up 
for tour busses. The shop itself was huge. We saw pieces there 
we had not seen anywhere else in town, including some gorgeous 
tableware. I told Hiroko we need to find out what the glaze is 
made of before we consider buying them and eating off them. We 
can live nicely without lead poisoning. I found a nice item for 
a gift and we were on our way.
 
We continued on in the direction of Ocotlan to our next 
destination of San Martin. This village is noted for its painted 
wooden animals. It seems as though each village has its own 
specialty and this is great. It gives many of them a unique and 
distinctive character. It reminded me in one way of driving 
across America yesteryear and seeing the different characters of 
many of the cities across our own vast country. Now there are 
too many of the same looking shopping malls with the same stores 
and selling the same junk.
 
San Martin is not even on the map, so when I asked Hiroko how 
far off the highway it was when we turned onto the road to the 
village, she had no idea. It wasn't far at all. Again it was a 
town devoid of most vehicles and no traffic whatsoever. As we 
drove down the street very slowly we could see crafts people in 
their taller (studios) working on their stuff. We made our way 
to the end of the street running through town. We knew we were 
there when the paved road became one of dirt only. 
 
We made a u-turn and parked near the first studio we visited. 
The quaint impressionistic animal representations were 
colorfully painted and pleasing to the eye. Many of the studios, 
as we found out later, have many of the identical wooden 
figurines unpainted as though they were mass produced somewhere 
else and then the artist would paint them in their own way. Some 
of the pieces were indeed unique.
 
We stopped at two or three studios, looked at the handiwork and 
were on our way. It is difficult not to buy some of the stuff we 
really like. However, since our future plans involved moving to 
Mexico within the next twelve months, we have much to get rid of 
and do not need to accumulate more stuff that we are not 
planning to move with us.
 
Next stop on our village tour was San Antonino. It was 
immediately adjacent to Ocotlan, where we were planning on 
having lunch. It was another sleepy village, but this one had 
more activity. Perhaps their local Mercado added to the business 
of the place. This town is noted for its textiles, but we saw 
nothing that captured our attention. We parked near the Mercado 
and went for a stroll. It was not a "market day" so many of the 
stalls were empty, but there was still a lot of merchants and 
activity. Finding little that was new to us, we made our way 
back to the car and back to Ocotlan. 
 
 
Unlike our last visit to Ocotlan, it was almost like a different 
city. We drove up to the main plaza and immediately found a 
parking space at the curb. At the Friday market a few weeks ago 
the main plaza was completely engulfed in makeshift stalls and 
tents of merchants selling their wares. Today the plaza was 
devoid of merchants with a sprinkling of people and a few 
shoeshine stands. The town was moving at a much more leisurely 
pace today. We know what chaos this place will become tomorrow.
 
We made our way to where we had an epamanda the last time here 
and were looking for Carolina, the young woman that prepared it 
for us. We found her stall, but there was someone else there 
inside the large indoor permanent Mercado. Not being able to 
communicate with this older woman very well we walked around 
looking for another stall to eat at. Along the way we passed a 
stall with a woman dressed up to look like the famed artist 
Freida. Even the hair was done the same style and she looked 
remarkably like Freida. No, we did not eat at her stand, though 
I don't think we could have made a worse choice that where we 
did decide to eat. It was disappointing, but we have been 
spoiled eating in this country. If it wasn't "special", we were 
diapoointed. 
 
We had our lunch, did a loop around the plaza and then made our 
way back to the car. We were on our way back to Oaxaca. Just 
outside of Ocatlan we stopped at a roadside stand where an older 
woman was sitting and crocheting. She had her wares hanging out 
in a display. We stopped and chatted and Hiroko tried on many, 
many items. I told the woman that Hiroko was particular and she 
laughed and nodded in agreement. I had already picked out a 
pretty blouse as a gift for someone and negotiated down the 
price while Hiroko was still searching for that special 
something.
 
We were in no hurry, so I was being very patient while Hiroko 
did her shopping. While that was going on I went to the car for 
my camera and told the woman I would like to take her picture 
with her workmanship. These people are very reluctant to have 
their picture taken unless or until you buy something from them. 
Then they almost always say yes to the request. Hiroko finally 
zeroed in on a nice blouse, I paid the nice lady and we were on 
our way back to town. 
 
We stopped at the Soriano market we normally frequent at the 
south end of town. We were in search of more of the Insomnio Te 
that is great for helping you go to sleep using natural herbs. 
The market has been out of them for weeks and we wanted to have 
an adequate supply of it for the return trip home and beyond. 
Unfortunately, Soriano was still out of stock on the item. We 
went to the older and smaller Soriano Supermarket a few blocks 
away, but they did not have it either. Bummer!
 
We went back to our apartment and I got busy writing my blog and 
Hiroko did some web surfing for our return trip home, which is 
coming up much too rapidly for my liking. I would just as soon 
stay here in the lovely apartment we found across the street 
from where we are. It has two bedrooms in townhouse style 
(upstairs and downstairs), a fully separate kitchen with modern 
appliances and a large living room and dining area and comes 
with secure parking and WiFi Internet included. That place is 
three to four times the size of this small one bedroom apartment 
and is priced 15% less than where we are and if you add in our 
extra cost for parking (four blocks away from here) for the 
month that other place is more than 20% less costly.
 
As it approached seven thirty we got ready to go out. Hiroko was 
dressed very smartly, as usual, so I put on my dress pants 
(really dockers) and my silk monk-looking top, my nice shoes and 
we were off. Hiroko mentioned a few places, but I had my mind 
set on one place: Casa Oaxaca. We passed this restaurant and bar 
many times and it looked upscale enough for our celebratory 25th 
anniversary dinner. It was a very classy place.
 
When we walked in we were surprised at how many gringos were in 
there. Most of the people in the restaurant were conversing with 
each other in English. As we selected our table we were 
surprised at how busy the place was. We had only three tables to 
choose from as the rest of the perhaps ten tables total were 
occupied. We should not have been surprised as this is one of 
the most highly rated restaurants in this city. It was not very 
long before all the tables were full and they were turning away 
customers. That is something we never saw on this trip before. 
Most restaurants in this town, including the better ones, were 
mostly empty all the time.
 
As we were served our ensalada verde, we began to understand why 
this place was so highly rated. The salad was unique with greens 
we were unfamiliar with along with some romaine lettuce and 
other salad stuff. It was great. I had ordered a rack of lamb in 
a tomato-marmalade and Hiroko ordered pork in green mole sauce. 
Both dishes were sensational. The waiter service was as good as 
the meal and I would highly recommend this restaurant to anyone 
that did not mind paying $540 Pesos for an exquisite meal with a 
glass of wine for Hiroko and a Negro Modelo beer for me.
 
After dinner we decided t take a stroll towards Zocalo to walk 
off some of the food. It was a slow evening at the Zocalo, and 
we made one spin through the park and headed back towards our 
apartment. Passing the gelato ice cream parlor we found room for 
a small cup of Oaxacan choclate ice cream for us to share. 
 
We got back to the apartment after yet another full day, had a 
cup of that Insomnio Te and it was off to never never land. 


Wed. 8 Oct. 2008, Day 37 away from home, day 35 in country:

Today might have been just another day if it was not our 25th 
wedding anniversary. Nobody, present company included, would 
have believed this relationship would last as long as it did. 
Hiroko asked me if I wanted another twenty five and I said, 
"Hell no!" My reasoning: I do not want to become an old man, 
which is what I would be in my late 80's. Different strokes for 
different folks and of course everything is subject to change. 
 
Today's adventure had us driving east towards Mitla, but not 
going quite that far. There were some small villages that we 
wanted to see. The first was Santa Ana de Valle, which was noted 
for its textile works and Hiroko is big time into textiles. It 
was a very sleepy little village. We parked the car and there 
was no paucity of parking spaces. There were no people or 
vehicles on the street. Being cautious, I parked a sort distance 
from a police vehicle. Better safe than sorry.
 
We knew about the quaint little museum here that extolled the 
history of the village, its textile works and on overview of 
historic events in the revolutionary struggle for independence. 
Apparently this sleepy village was one of the focal points for 
the revolution in the Oaxacan region. The museum was darling. 
After the museum we simply walked the near barren streets. It 
came close to walking through a ghost town with some remnants of 
a population.
 
We got back into the car and were making our way towards the 
second tiny village we wanted to see today called Dias Ordaz 
when something curious was appearing before our eyes just off 
the roadway. In the middle of nowhere there seemed to be 
something that looked remarkably like a residential subdivision 
that you might see in Middle America. Sure as hell, it was a 
subdivision and I could not resist the temptation to turn in and 
look around. Most of the units appeared to be vacant, but this 
place could easily be in Podunk, Mississippi. We were astonished 
to see something like this here. It was clearly ahead of its 
time even though it was within an easy commute of the City of 
Oaxaca. Perhaps the two years of political strife in Oaxaca and 
the violence that drove away tourism had something to do with 
the situation this subdivision was in. I guess we'll never know.
 
Dias Ordaz was an even sleepier town than Santa Ana de Valle. It 
was beyond quaint, but it had a beautiful central plaza and a 
well-maintained and colorful municipal building. We parked right 
on the plaza as we saw only one parked car there, and no others 
anywhere in town. We walked around a bit and of course I took 
some pictures. We walked into the main church's courtyard and 
came upon some gentlemen just sitting around and chatting. They 
were slightly beyond suspicious of us with my large camera 
around my neck and my taking pictures as I pleased. 
 
Me being me, I said hello to the gents and they were standoffish 
at first. They wanted to know why I was taking pictures and 
where I was from. I found out in Oaxaca that at times government 
operatives would take photos of people at political gatherings 
for later interrogation and whatever. I think what broke the ice 
was when I stared to talk about the New York Yankees baseball 
team because one of the guys was wearing a baseball cap with the 
Yankee insignia on it. After they loosened up, I asked them 
first as a group, and then individually, if I could take their 
picture. Forget about it! They wanted no part of that action. We 
talked for a short while longer and then we were on our way 
again. I am still wondering if the communication gap with them 
was due to a local dialect issue or Hiroko and I just had a 
brain-gas issue.
 
We made our way back to town, parked the car and then headed out 
in search of the great wine and liquor shop the bartender 
recommended to me the night before. It was not a very long walk 
to the neighborhood we wanted to explore anyway, so we 
accomplished two goods with one walk. We found the Prissas (the 
name of the store in San Filipe) and it exceeded all 
expectations for wine selection. There were wines there in the 
price range of US $4.50 per bottle to US $600.00 per bottle and 
everything in between. We purchased three bottles of good red 
wine (average price US $7.50 with the now very favorable 
exchange rate to Pesos), stuffed them into my backpack and set 
off to explore San Filipe on foot.
 
San Filipe was great and I flat wore Hiroko out with all the 
walking. It was what my legs needed as I had a knot in my right 
calf muscle that needed to be worked out and the walking did it. 
We found a cool disco that we will visit over the weekend, nice 
shops, tree lines streets and a more upscale atmosphere than 
what we had seen in Oaxaca to date. We will be back to visit 
this neighborhood and the one called Barrio Republica very soon.
 
We made our way back to the apartment and Hiroko was obviously 
tired. We had an early dinner and we called it a night. She 
washed the dishes while I returned the car to the parking 
station.  I was into the computer when I returned from the 
parking station until about 11:00 PM. It made me tired enough 
that I did not need any sleep aids to go down, but it did take 
longer than normal. I do not want to develop a dependence on 
sleeping aids due to that damn noisy refrigerator in our 
apartment. What a crappy thing to have to deal with on an 
otherwise perfect vacation.


Tue. 7 Oct. 2008, Day 36 away from home, day 34 in country:

I had a feeling today might become one of those ho-hum kind of 
days. We had no real agenda for the day as we were rapidly 
settling in to a normal living routine, which I suppose, is 
good. After all, one of the objectives of this trip was to see 
if we are able to live here and so far, so good, except for that 
damn annoying refrigerator. After all the blissful quietness in 
Puerto Escondido, I actually had some regrets about coming back 
to our apartment. 
 
Prior to leaving for Puerto Escondido we could turn the fridge 
setting all the way up to eight or nine and get it cold enough, 
then turning it down to two at bedtime and it would give us many 
hours of quiet. After our return from the coast that was no 
longer a functioning strategy. Last night I turned the damn 
fridge down to two, but the damn noisy motor and/or compressor 
never quieted down. I took a sleeping pill. I should send the 
landlord William a bill for the sleeping pills that I have had 
to take here due to his antiquated fridge.
 
We finished our breakfast and I did my usual morning market 
research. I also fielded a series of email queries about when I 
was coming back to CA and when I would be available to speak to 
groups about what was happening in the financial markets and 
why. Enough work stuff.
 
Hiroko did her yoga while I called my good friend, lawyer and 
skipper of the racing sailboat I crew on occasionally in San 
Francisco, JY.  Afterwards Hiroko and I went to our local 
Mercado and got our daily provisions. On the way back to the 
apartment we stopped at Rosie's Lavendaria and we picked up our 
clothes. I asked Rosie if I could take her photo and she agreed 
reluctantly.
 
We brought the stuff back to the apartment and then decided to 
get the car and go exploring. First destination was the area 
north of the aqueduct that we had not been to before. Finding a 
parking space here was a challenge.  I saw a bit of open curb 
and whipped in after several turns around the neighborhood 
looking for a parking space. I completely ignored the no parking 
sign painted on the street that I half covered with our car. I 
am sure Hiroko did not notice it or she would have suggested we 
look elsewhere to park. 
 
We walked around for a bit and were again saddened by all the 
graffiti everywhere. The annoyance of the graffiti was only 
exceeded by the annoyance of the daily rocket flights and 
explosions. I would think that in this nearly police state with 
law enforcement officers almost everywhere they would do 
something about the urban terrorists setting off loud explosions 
every evening often up until eleven at night. Back to the car 
and we were off to San Filipe.
 
We were in search of a soup mix that we had purchased there the 
week before. We were also wondering if the fish lady that we met 
there the last time would be there today. Even though we had 
seem some really good looking fish elsewhere, I wanted to buy 
from the small merchant whose store was just a folding table, a 
scale, some fish and shrimps and a beaming smile. Sure enough 
she was there and we were glad to see her and happy that she 
remembered us. She asked Hiroko if we lived in the neighborhood 
and we said no, we were just here for a long visit.
 
After we got the fish we got some veggies and there was no soup 
mix to be seen. Bummer! That meant we'd be back at our Mercado 
again for the second time today to see what we could muster up 
for my making another pot of soup tonight. As we walked back to 
the car we looked at a sidewalk empananda stand and I asked the 
woman what was inside them. She told us chicken, salsa and 
squash flowers. I thought we order only one, but wound up with 
one with chicken, cheese and a red sauce they called Amarillo 
(which literally translates to yellow). The first time we heard 
the reference the day before we were totally confused, but it 
set in this time around. We also wound up with one that had just 
cheese and squash flowers in it. They were both superb.
 
While we were sitting there eating our lunch we were watching 
another vender dispense a liquid from a large basin that we had 
been seeing all over town. I asked Hiroko to ask the woman what 
it was and she told her and Hiroko wrote it down and then asked 
what it was made of. It was a corn-based concoction that this 
area is famous for. We were told it was sweet, but we did not 
try it. While we were sitting there along came another person I 
saw on the garden tour at Santo Domingo the prior Friday 
evening. We made eye contact and said "Hi" to each other in 
English. She was on her way into this tiny church-side local 
collection of vendors.
 
On her way out I asked her aloud if that was a British accent 
that I had heard at the garden tour. She said yes, I got up and 
a conversation erupted. Judith has been living in Oaxaca for ten 
years and is married to a native of Mexico City. She just 
happens to have a rent house in San Filipe and I told here we 
were looking to move here in the spring. I gave her my card, 
told her to enjoy the photos and keep in touch about housing 
availability beginning in April or May. It was a brief but 
pleasant conversation. 
 
Today was one of the hottest days we have experienced in Oaxaca 
and we were concerned about the fish sitting in the hot car, so 
we finished our lunch and headed back to the apartment to get 
the fish in the fridge before it spoiled in the heat. We dumped 
our load, I put some beans in a pot to soak as they were going 
into the soup and then we headed out to the Mercado to get what 
else was needed for the soup pot. We walked to the Mercado 
through some intermittent showers. I thought the rainy season 
was supposed to be over?
 
Mission accomplished for getting a soup mix, some extra veggies 
and we made it back to the apartment. Tonight was my turn to 
cook. I got the soup going, but it was turning out to be more of 
a vegetable stew than a soup as there was not much room for 
liquid in the large pot we had been using. I threw in just about 
everything that was not fresh in the fridge and some of the 
stuff I bought expressly to put in the pot. I took a break after 
getting the soup going and then made my guacamole. 
 
It seems like years since I last made guacamole prior to coming 
here, but I never forgot how to do it. It reminds me of my 
stepfather Rudy every time I make it as it was his recipe that 
was burnished into my cerebral cortex. It is good to remember 
Rudy once in a hile. He was a really nice guy, treated my mom 
really well and went out of his way to be nice to me even though 
there were many times I did not deserve such consideration from 
him. At times during my rebellious early teens I was a real 
asshole in Rudy's direction. I'm glad I got a change to 
apologize to him about those days while he was still alive.
 
Okay, the guacamole was done, the soup was doing its magic under 
the influence of heat and Hiroko got into making another of her 
great salads and rice for a side dish. When she was done with 
that I got into gear and sautˇed the fish in butter with thinly 
sliced onions with just a hint of seasoning. It was a grand 
meal. We were done with supper about eight fifteen. I told 
Hiroko I need to go to the bar named The Fly to talk to the 
owner Armando about promoting the place. It was his suggestion 
when I was there last week, so I decided what the heck. There is 
no such thing as too many connections if you are planning to 
move to a new city. I told Hiroko I'd be back by ten thirty and 
I left. 
 
I got to The Fly, sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Armando was 
busy in the kitchen. The bartender was the same guy that made us 
the sensational crepes flambˇ the week before. I told him his 
photo was on the website. I gave him my card so he could look at 
it. We got into a great conversation about travel and Oaxaca. 
Turns out he lived in Citrus Heights, CA for three years. He 
will soon be moving to Barcelona, Spain to manage a restaurant 
and bar there. The owners want him to come now, but he is 
honoring his commitment to Armando to get this place up and 
running smoothly before he leaves.
 
I asked him how he knows Armando and he said they are dating 
sisters. Armando had a falling out with some other person and 
had to find a new place to live and the bartender (forgive me 
for forgetting his name) invited Armando to move in with him. 
They became great friends. When the bartender moves to Spain he 
is taking his girlfriend with him and they will be wed there. He 
said for him Oaxaca was too boring - no nightlife. I told him it 
was perfect for old married people that don't go out and party.
 
We talked up a storm for quite a while and he even gave me a 
referral for the best place in town to buy wine and alcohol. Of 
course, it had to be in San Filipe. Armando finally became un-
busy and we talked about possible avenues for marketing and 
promoting his relatively new establishment of two months. He 
said he needed to finalize a menu before he was ready to start 
up a website. I told him whenever he was ready I would refer him 
to some of my personal resources for web design and marketing. 
He said he would contact me by email.
 
I finished my second beer and did a bit of strolling on the 
local streets taking some night shots. I returned to the 
apartment with fifteen minutes to spare. I knew if I returned a 
minute after ten thirty Hiroko would begin to freak out. She 
worries entirely too much. She was glad I was early. We had some 
tea and I took a knock-out pill to have an uninterrupted nights 
sleep by that damn refrigerator. I really hope the landlord asks 
me if I would consider staying here in the spring when we 
return. I have a feeling you know what I will tell him. Good 
night.


Mon. 6 Oct. 2008, Day 35 away from home, day 33 in country:

I was unceremoniously awakened by one hell of a thunderclap at 
around five in the morning. It shook the very solidly built 
hotel room we were in. It took two more of those before Hiroko 
awakened from her very sound sleep. Not including the times I 
woke up during the night from being chilled by the air 
conditioning system in the room, I slept long and soundly.
 
I left Hiroko sleeping and I went down to the lobby reception 
area to play with the daily blog and upload some more photos. I 
cannot believe how many photos I have uploaded so far. At this 
rate I am likely to have over a thousand photos on the website 
before we get home. This will have to be pared down considerably 
for the final video to local music as I normally do. It is going 
to be difficult to eliminate three quarters of them, but I'll 
manage.
 
Hiroko came down to let me know she was up and asked for the 
room key so she could access the communal kitchen area on our 
floor to make some tea. That is where we have been keeping my 
Negra Modelo lager beer chilled. The key to the communal kitchen 
is on the same ring as the room key. She was asking for the key 
at eight in the morning and I told her I'd be up for tea and 
toast in fifteen minutes as I researched what was happening in 
the financial markets and it was major ugly! I normally avoid 
gloom and doom, but I could not avoid that subject today. Sorry, 
I should not be mixing my work stuff into this blog.
 
I went up to the room and had my "continental" breakfast of my 
hot water with key lime juice, a toasted croissant and sliced 
banana. I was working on my blog while eating my breakfast as 
there was no INternet access within the room. At about six 
twenty-five I headed back down to the lobby area to catch the 
opening market numbers, listen to the commentary about the 
European and Asian stock meltdown and wondered aloud what was 
going to be next. My writing of my daily newsletters are much 
more concise than my blogging as I have limited space there. 
 
As I was making ready to leave the room I told Hiroko my target 
time for leave this place and hitting the road was nine-thirty. 
I did not miss it by much. At nine-thirty I was done with my 
work and packing the few items we had brought (we were leaving 
with considerably more than we came with- mostly beer, a few 
bottles of wine and a bottle of my beloved Safire gin that we 
got at the supermarket here). We loaded the car, said our 
goodbyes and we were on our way.
 
We stopped at the first PetroMex station we came upon and when I 
gave the attendant my credit card he asked for my passport. When 
he walked towards the cashier to run my card I went with him. I 
was not letting my passport out of my sight. Hiroko was in the 
ladies room and when she came out she joined me at the cashiers 
window. I asked her to go back to the car as I remembered I 
inadvertently left the keys in the ignition. My focus was solely 
on my passport.
 
We were taking the route home that our landlord William 
suggested we not take fearing the road conditions were too bad. 
They were no worse and Hiroko would argue it was even better 
than highway 175 that we came down on. The primary difference 
was highway 131 was the drive time was more than an hour shorter 
than the highway 175 route.  Live and learn.
 
We stopped at a tiny village for coffee somewhere in the 
mountains and did not stop again (excluding the military 
roadblock and checkpoint) until we were within 25 miles of 
Oaxaca. We had a snack, found a restroom so I could relieve 
myself and we were on the final stretch to home. We stopped at 
the local Mercado for some eggs, an avocado and one tomato and 
made it to the apartment and unloaded everything. 
 
I decided to walk to our local bakery for fresh bread for my 
breakfast. There was one open stall with baked goods at our 
local Mercado when we were there, but they did not look all that 
good and I figured it must be the remnants of this morning's 
offering. I decided to walk to "our bakery" and got some fresh 
bread and cookies and then continued into town to get a juicer 
for the morning OJ since I broke the metal one just before we 
left town. On the way I stopped at Rosie's to drop off some 
sweaty smelly clothes for washing. 
 
I had a nice stroll and took a few photos. I am getting very 
selective these days. I got back to the apartment and backed up 
the laptop and did some stuff before dinner. After dinner I sat 
with Hiroko and we planned the remainder of our trip after we 
leave Oaxaca on the morning of the 15th. It wasn't long after we 
came to a sort-of decision on where to go and stay, then we 
returned the car to the parking lot, did some stuff and retired 
for the evening. It was another early evening for us old folks.

Sun. 5 Oct. 2008, Day 34 away from home, day 32 in country:

I slept surprisingly well and long overnight. The heat and 
humidity really knocked my socks off and I just slept like a 
baby. I did so without any aids from modern chemistry to boot!
 
We took our time getting into gear as this was intended to be a 
"wind down" stay and there really isn't much for us to do here 
except walk the beaches or go for a drive to somewhere else to 
see more beaches, coves, inlets and the like. 
 
I went down to check my email in the lobby reception area while 
Hiroko stayed in the room for a short while. Before long she 
appeared in the lobby area and retrieved the room key (we only 
had one) and she would make tea and we'd have our makeshift 
breakfast in the room as the hotel restaurant is shut down for 
the off season. After what I thought was an appropriate amount 
of time I went back to the room and it was just in time to have 
tea, some bread and a bit of pastries that we had. 
 
It was about eight-thirty that we thought it would be good to 
take a long walk before the heat rose and it became really 
oppressive. We put on our flip-flops and we headed out. This was 
the first time I am wearing these new flip-flops outside our 
room and I figured we were only going to walk a short distance 
to the beach and then I would be barefooted. That was not what 
went down.
 
We decided to walk towards a large peaceful cove that we were 
told about and we saw on the map. We did not find the road that 
would take us there because of no street names making it very 
difficult. We came upon a nice cemetery with some not so old 
graves and a work crew doing some stuff, which we thought was a 
bit unusual as it was a Sunday morning. We were getting the 
feeling that the days of the week to the people in this part of 
the world did not matter very much. People, like our bakery 
lady, worked seven days a week. The workers were building what 
was to be by far the largest tomb in this small cemetery. It had 
to be for somebody with lots of money as it was almost the size 
of some of the small shacks we have seen that people lived in 
and larger than many of the small shops in this town. 
 
After a short time of not finding the road to the cove and my 
feet were beginning to feel as though a blister might be 
happening from the flip flops, I suggested we walk towards the 
beach, which was fine with Hiroko.
 
Of course, we took a route that was not an obvious one to get to 
the beach and we came across a very nice stone and paved pathway 
along the shoreline in the direction we wanted to go, so we took 
it. There were a lot of ups and downs along the very rocky 
shoreline here. While walking we came across a man sitting on 
the edge of the walkway doing something. As we got closer, we 
could see he was removing some sea creatures from their shells. 
At first it looked to me as thought they were like clams from 
the look of the meat he was extracting from the shells, but they 
were only shelled on one side. As they had no means of 
locomotion, they must simply live attached to rocks. When Hiroko 
asked him what they were he told her "sea cockroaches." Taking a 
closer look at one before it was exorcised from their shell, it 
looked like a prehistoric trilobite on top and dark like the 
rocks it might be clinging to. We thanked him, wished him a good 
day and moved on.
 
This walkway was literally at the sea's edge. There were many 
parts of it that were soaked with the splashing of each of the 
waves that rolled in as high tide was near. Since I had my 
camera around my neck it was important for us to time our way 
across those lower lying areas. There were crabs everywhere and 
they scrambled at first sight of us. They obviously understood, 
if only instinctively, they were food for the two-legged 
creatures headed their way. There were not only all over the 
rocks everywhere, but they also ventured onto the wetter 
portions of the walkway making for great entertainment for my 
eyes as the scrambled for safety was we approached.
 
We came across some more people. It looked like a husband and 
wife and their teenage son. There was a bucket with small 
baitfish that pop was busily trying to fetch one of them from. 
Mom was just sitting around and her son was sharpening his knife 
on the rocks. Moments later we saw dad with one of the baitfish 
dangling from the end of a line of monofilament and he was 
headed towards a rocky ledge. He had no rod or reel. It was 
simply fishing line wrapped around a piece of wood with a hook 
on one end. There was no weight on the line either. 
 
The man got to the ledge and like cowboy twirling a rope to get 
a head of cattle so he could get some momentum going for the 
little fish at the end of his line and tossed it into the 
Pacific. We stood and watched as he gently tugged on the line to 
give the baitfish more motion and he wound the excess line 
created by doing that back around the block of wood. We watched 
for less than a minute when he yanked on the line. Obviously, 
there was something that struck at his bait. He began to bring 
in the line and sure enough there was a fish on the end of his 
line that was considerably larger than the little fish he tossed 
into the sea. We acknowledged to each other that the man knew 
what he was doing. We continued on our way down the path.
 
We came to the end of the path and it led up to some very 
attractive residential units, some of which were new and some 
were built right at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the 
Pacific Ocean. Considering this is one of the more seismically 
active regions of the world, I'm not sure I would be comfortable 
living at the edge of a cliff here. We climbed up the stairs to 
the street level and I was sweating profusely. It was still 
early morning, the sun was still lingering behind the morning 
clouds and it was already hot and steamy. Rather than go further 
out and then have to return when it was even hotter I suggested 
we make our way back towards the beach area.
           
We made our way up the street and turned at the first 
intersection. As we walked down the street we saw two adult 
goats and their kid. The father was tethered and the mom and kid 
were free to roam, but did not stray far from pop. Snap, Snap. 
As we walked down the street we noticed we were back at the 
cemetery. We made a rather large loop to get back to where we 
were. It was easy for us to get to the beach room there.
 
As we walked down the beach it was getting hotter, but there 
were occasional breezes coming off the ocean that were 
delightful. We must have walked two miles down the beach and 
well past where we had stopped the day before. The far end of 
the beach was much quieter and there were fewer people there. 
There were also many surfers there as the surf was up and it had 
some huge waves.
 
We stopped at a restaurant on the beach for some coffee and I 
wound up ordering a ham and cheese omelet. It came with 
tortillas, rice and beans. It was good. While waiting for my 
breakfast I made another new four-legged friend. Some stray dog 
that was mostly a yellow Labrador Retriever just came up to me 
and said hello to me kind of quietly. He was just looking for a 
bit of attention and he came to the right place. I pet him and 
he appreciated it. After I stopped petting him he sort of nudged 
my leg with his muzzle once and let me know if I was predisposed 
to it, he's like some more. When I finished with the second 
round of petting he quietly laid down by my feet and just stayed 
there. 
 
I ate my breakfast with the help of Hiroko. The portions here 
seem to always be rather large, so I had no problem sharing my 
breakfast with her. After we both had our fill, I shared my 
breakfast with my new friend sleeping at my feet. The smart boy 
probably knew if he was patient he might get some breakfast. 
Even if he wasn't a smart boy, it was too hot for even him to be 
strolling along on the hot beach. After breakfast we strolled 
down the beach a bit more (without the new friend) and then went 
to what is the equivalent of Beach Boulevard running parallel to 
the beach. It was a nice walk on a hot and humid morning and we 
were ready to get back to our air conditioning. 
 
We made our way back to our hotel and "chilled out" for a while. 
I do not recall what time it was, but it was well past noon. We 
likely walked four to six miles this day so far. Chilling out in 
the room we decided on an early dinner as we made up our mind to 
leave in the morning and head back to Oaxaca. It was a nice 
leisurely time in Puerto Escondido, but the combination of heat 
and humidity was too oppressive for us. 
 
At about five thirty we headed out in search of a seafood 
restaurant recommended to us by Sergio, the manager of the hotel 
where we were staying. The directions were easy to follow and 
when we got there and at a beachside table we realized we had 
walked by this establishment at least four times in the short 
while we were in town, only on the beach side of it where we did 
not notice the name of it.
 
We ordered a grilled tuna fillet and a mixed salad. We were 
missing our great salads that we had become accustomed to in 
Oaxaca. Both portions were too big, as usual for this country, 
and we were glad we did not order two entrees. While we were 
enjoying our drinks before our meals got there, this cute young 
gray cat that jumped onto a large rock just across from our 
table and was eating something there. We were entertained 
watching the cat and its slinky prowling in search of some food.
 
When we realized that the portion of tuna was too big for the 
two of us to consume, we wondered where the cat was. Sure enough 
it appeared like clockwork. When I called it, it came quickly 
begging for food, but it would not let me pet or touch it. That 
tiny thing probably ate more tuna than Hiroko did. After a while 
Hiroko became concerned that the poor little thing might return 
its meal because it ate so much. She does like to worry about 
everything. I fed the cat more until it stopped begging for some 
more. The poor little creature's belly must have been completely 
empty because it was not bulging from that banquet it had.
 
We finished our meal and found a nice ice cream parlor. There is 
always room for some ice cream, no matter how full we thought we 
were. We shared a small cup of chocolate, walked a bit more on 
the main street of the beach side of town that was completely 
town up for repaving, and turned back towards the hotel. We were 
very early birds this night. We were back in our suite by seen 
and I must have been asleep before eight. Zzzzz.


Sat. 4 Oct. 2008, Day 33 away from home, day 31 in country:

It was up and out early. We ate breakfast and were on the road 
to Puerto Escondido at 8:30 AM. We were familiar with the early 
going as we were on highway 175 that we had been on several 
times before. 
 
After a couple of hours on the road and half way distance-wise 
to our destination we were beginning to wonder what the fuss was 
all about with this drive? We stopped for a break in tiny 
mountain village called San Jose del Pacifico. We got out and 
began to walk around. 
 
The first thing we saw was a cute little black and white dog. 
Her hair was all matted and she had a lame leg, but that did not 
stop her one bit from getting around just fine. I said hello to 
her and it was like she met a lifelong friend she had not seen 
in quite a while. She came up to me with her tail wagging away 
like crazy and laid down on the roadway at my feet, belly up. Of 
course, I could not refuse such a warm invitation to giver her a 
belly scratch. 
 
We were high up in the mountains and this was a typical cloud 
forest environment. Having just come through dense fog on a 
narrow mountain road, we can attest to the fact we were indeed 
driving through the clouds. The driving was treacherous. We 
walked around a bit and came across an appealing tienda for a 
snack and a cup of coffee. 
 
We had a snack of Quesadilla of chicken and cheese and coffee. 
We have been getting lucky with eating local foods at small 
eateries. This was a family affair business with mama in the 
kitchen daughter waiting tables and granddaughter bussing tables 
and running errands. We ate, made our way back to the car, I 
gave my new three-legged friend a farewell belly scratch and we 
were off again. 
 
Fortunately we were almost done with having to navigate through 
the heavy fog, but the second half of the distance to Puerto 
Escondido was more than four hours. We can also see why everyone 
kept saying never make this drive at night. There are no guard 
rails and we can see how easily one could drive off a cliff into 
oblivion and perhaps never to be seen again. 
 
As we began to descend from the mountain heights we watched the 
temperature thermometer in the dashboard rise to eighty-six 
degrees from the 52 we had seen near the top of the mountain we 
were crossing to get to the coast. We arrived at the coast 
without incident only to realize we were still an hour was from 
Puerto Escondido. Fortunately the drive was an easy one. 
 
We finally found the hotel we were looking for after a bit of 
confusion with the directions we were getting from people on the 
streets. There were no street signs to be seen anywhere, making 
our task a bit more difficult, but we got there and checked in 
to a modest suite. Before checking in I had to check for a 
viable Internet connection and it was fully functional even if 
it was only in the reception area of the lobby. 
 
It was blazing hot and muggy compared to what we just left in 
Oaxaca. We tried to get the air conditioner working but without 
much success. It was only circulating the hot air. We left it 
running and went out looking for something as yet unknown. We 
went to the giant supermarket a few blocks away to get some 
stuff for the room and cool down in the AC there. We were 
successful on both counts. We brought the stuff back to the room 
and we set out to explore the beach. 
 
To tell just how the heat and the humidity was getting to me, I 
forgot to bring the camera, so I left Hiroko in the lobby and 
went up to the room to grab my camera. While there I played with 
the remote for the AC and got it blowing cool air thankfully. We 
were off again. 
 
We strolled the beach mostly watching people being themselves 
and having fun. This was the off-season so there were not many 
people to be seen anywhere. This is a good thing for us. We 
walked perhaps a half-mile down the beach when we decided to get 
something to drink and perhaps a snack. Hiroko ordered a glass 
of chilled white wine for a change and I had a cold beer and we 
ordered a shrimp cocktail. 
 
While we were sitting there enjoying ourselves some familiar 
faces crossed our path. The nice young couple that we meat at 
the museum garden tour the evening before (German woman and 
Argentine gentleman) were walking down the beach and stopped to 
say hello when they saw us at our beachside table. We exchanged 
pleasantries and they said we'll probably see you again. We 
agreed. This is not a large town and there are not a lot of 
people here because it is off-season.
 
We finished our snack and made our way back to our hotel room. 
When we opened the door to the room we were met with a blast of 
refreshingly cold air. We lounged and cooled off and then went 
down stairs to check our email. After returning to the room I 
brought up the subject of dinner at about 8:00 PM or so and 
suggested we might want to go out to eat around nine. Hiroko was 
not really motivated to eat and frankly neither was I.
 
Hiroko made us some tea and we munched on some of the fresh 
bakery cookies we had with us and we were in for the evening. 
Before I knew it I was fighting off sleep at nine and eventually 
succumbed to it and was out for the night. I woke a few times to 
adjust the AC, but mostly slept through to six in the morning. I 
must have needed the sleep as it was unassisted by pills or 
booze.


Fri. 3 Oct. 2008, Day 32 away from home, day 30 in country:

I still have a hard time believing that we have been on the road 
for more than a month. Time is going by much to rapidly.
 
I got up this morning feeling like a new person. Bless the 
wonders of modern medicine and a good night's sleep. I quickly 
got into my routine as it is a Friday and I have my weekly 
newsletter to deal with. Compounding the time pressures on us is 
that there is the monthly newsletter deadline looming. 
Fortunately, since we have been on the road, I have refined what 
I do, how I do it and the amount of time it takes to perform 
work related tasks. Not having the usual distractions like 
television and ringing telephones has a way of enabling me to 
focus better on what I am doing.
 
Surprisingly, I was ready to head out of the apartment at the 
same time today as I was yesterday. We did not have much of an 
agenda to speak of. There was something going on at Santo 
Domingo and Hiroko was interested in seeing what it was all 
about. We also wanted to tour their extensive gardens and 
hopefully we could accomplish both items at the same time.
 
We were expecting some sort of music event at Santo Domingo, and 
along the way we passed a woman weaving at her hand loom. I 
tried to snap a picture of her while she was at her work, but 
Hiroko was looking at her wares on the table and the weaver got 
up to showcase her stuff. I missed that opportunity. We told the 
woman we were on our way to an event and would return later. e 
did return later, but could not find her.
 
There was no music event to be had at Santo Domingo. The guard 
at the entrance to the area offered little to no assistance. We 
walked towards the Zocalo and passed some shops and went up to 
visit an art gallery called Gallery 910. There were some 
interesting things there, none of which had a price tag on it. 
There was nothing that really knocked my socks off. Speaking of 
socks, that was where we headed next.
 
We were headed to the large Mercado Publico south of Zocolo to 
buy Hiroko some socks. One pair went missing at Rosie's 
Lavanderia. It seems like that happens quite a bit at home too. 
We got what she needed and headed back towards the apartment for 
lunch and for me to do some work.
 
We had some soup and salad for lunch and then I got to work. 
About four-thirty Hiroko reminded me that the "event" at Santo 
Domingo was happening at five, so I wound down what I was doing 
and got ready to go out. For only the second time on the trip I 
dressed nicely as we were going to dinner afterward.
 
Well, the music event we were expecting wasn't and we would up 
touring the gardens with a guide (the only way you can get into 
their pristine gardens). I was a bit surprised at the diversity 
of plants they had there. While walking, we heard a couple 
speaking in English. Of course, I had to ask where they were 
from. The young woman was from Germany and her companion was 
from Argentina. When he said Buenos Aries, I gave him my card 
and asked him that we get in touch. We would be looking to come 
to his city for a month or two and would appreciate the 
assistance of a local to find an apartment rental. He said sure!
 
After the tour of the gardens, which lasted over an hour, we set 
out in search of food and drink. Our first choice for drink was 
a funky place on Porifiro Diaz, but it was too funky. We wound 
up going to a place that was high on Hiroko's list of places to 
dine. We started in the bar with drinks and an appetizer. It 
turned out that the person waiting on us was the owner. It is 
slow season in Oaxaca, although we seem to be seeing many more 
tourists on the street now that October is here.
 
We chatted with the owren and there was a computer in the bar, 
so I took the liberty of going to my website and showed the 
owner some of my photos from Oaxaca. The appetizer was great and 
it was time to retire to the main dining room for dinner. We had 
Chiles en Nogada, a house specialty and chicken mole, which was 
superb.
 
While eating, another couple came in to dine. When I heard them 
conversing in English, of course, I asked where they were from. 
They were a Berkeley couple that had been coming to Oaxaca every 
year for the past thirty years. They were very nice retired 
couple that were in town for three months and we bid them a 
pleasant evening as we left.
 
We made our way back to the apartment and I did some more work 
and then returned the car to the lot. I took a different route 
back to the lot that took me by the large park in our 
neighborhood. Little did I know that at nine-thirty in the 
evening it would be a traffic nightmare. There was a free 
concert in the park and there were young people everywhere with 
as many cars as there were youngsters. I waited patiently and 
let others blow their horns for me to vent their frustration. I 
was in no mood to go there. 
 
I finally got back to the apartment and it was the end of an 
uneventful day. However, the morning would be bringing a new 
adventure as we were headed south to Pacific Coast and Puerto 
Escondido.


Thu. 2 Oct. 2008, Day 31 away from home, day 29 in country:

This morning I woke up feeling much better than I had since the 
onset of the cold. I was sitting here, after a very good night's 
sleep in spite of having a two to three hour nap the evening 
before. Hiroko was still asleep when I jumped into my laptop, so 
I made my way around quietly so as not to disturb her.
 
 I was sitting at the table with my fingers dancing across the 
keyboard recalling the events of yesterday when something of my 
"practice" came to mind. I find that Buddhist often refer to 
what they do as "their Practice."
 
One of the silent mantras the followers of Ticht Naht Hanh say 
to themselves while doing their walking mediations goes: 
 
I have arrived, I am home
In the here, and the now.
 
I am solid, I am free.
In the ultimate I dwell.
 
Those words crossed my mind when I realized that Hiroko and I 
were referring to our apartment as home after only two weeks. I 
guess home is truly wherever we lay our weary bones to rest. I 
have found those words on my brain's tele-prompter as I walk 
thorough the streets, alleys and markets of this perfectly 
delightful city.
 
There isn't a whole lot of anecdotal stuff that comes to the 
forefront of my mind regarding today's activities. We were out 
and about at eleven again this morning and off to the Thursday 
market at Zaachila, a not-too-far suburb of Oaxaca. It is the 
last of the large outdoor open-air markets in the region that we 
have not been to yet. 
 
I looked at the map, we retrieved the car and we were on our way 
again. Either it was a combination of my body self-mending or 
the cold remedies that I was taking for some comfort was 
relieving the symptoms or a combination of both. Whatever it 
was, I was ready to roll today, and we did. 
 
Going to Zaachila gave us two alternative routes. If we missed 
on one on the way down, then we would exercise choice number two 
and then utilize the other route for our return trip. Navigating 
around the potholes again on route 175 south was a familiar 
thing for me by now. As we approached our turnoff we did so with 
caution because we were not entirely sure where it might be. We 
found and made the turn okay.
 
Not only did we have to navigate the many 'topes' on this minor 
artery between the carraterra and Zaachila, we also had to be 
careful not to run into one of the many horse or burro drawn 
carts on this minor farming road. We took the back way into town 
and we were not sure how to find out destination. We stopped and 
asked a woman on the street and she pointed us in the exact 
opposite direction of where we needed to go. It did not take me 
very long to figure that one out. When the paved road became a 
dirt road I knew something was wrong and changed course and 
followed my instincts. I got us to what looked like it might be 
it, but it wasn't.
 
Apparently this town has several markets. The one we found 
ourselves at was the market for firewood and corn, mostly still 
on the stalk. We walked around a bit and then asked a traffic 
cop at the corner where the Mercado en el Centro was and he told 
us three blocks down as he pointed. He tried to tell me in 
English as best as he could and I repeated his instructions back 
to him in Spanish. He replied affirmatively and we were on our 
way on foot as it was only three blocks away. We decided to 
leave the car where it was. 
 
So we get to this bustling market and as markets go this one was 
a bit different, a bit smaller than the other big open-air 
markets, but it had its own uniqueness. It also has its own 
distinctive cast of characters and my shutter finger got some 
exercise. After more than two weeks in Oaxaca and many market 
visits I seem to be becoming more selective about what I shoot. 
My primary interest is in faces first and places second, hence 
the name of the website as it is. Of course, children will 
always remain my favorite for photographing. I seem to relate 
well to them.
 
We did a preliminary walk through, including going through the 
permanent public market. The indoor public market was virtually 
wall-to-wall dead cows and chickens. It was row after row after 
row of meats and sausages. The smell of the carrion was getting 
to me. If you ever wanted to become a vegan, then spend a couple 
of hours in this place and you might never eat meat again.  
 
We went back outside after buying some sweet pastries and 
mingled and browsed and photographed. We also bought a couple of 
small chocolate covered things that were in the shape of small 
mice. They were too cute to pass by. Next thing we found 
ourselves doing was standing over two ladies that had an 
epaminande stand and were making these yummy looking things. 
When we asked and were told they were just sautˇed mushrooms and 
cheese, we were in. It was delicious and we ate every last bit 
of it. 
 
After our snack we bought the produce we needed for the next 
twenty-four hours and we were almost ready to go back to town. 
First we had to visit the ruins there, of course. There was a 
sign on the road just outside the indoor Mercado with a pyramid 
on it and an arrow to the left. Had we known the entrance to the 
ruins was less than a hundred yards from there, we would have 
walked. Not knowing this, we walked back to the car and just as 
we got to where we were parked, we saw a reluctant goat on a 
rope being dragged down the street its owner. Snap, snap. As we 
were about to enter the car again, we saw a huge bull on a rope 
being escorted down the middle of the road by its owner. Hiroko 
told me there was also an animal market in this town, but I had 
no interest in seeing that market. 
 
We drove down the street we had just walked back to the car on, 
made the turn and there was the entrance to the ruins site. We 
found a parking space somehow and parked. Of courses, it was a 
no-parking zone on this entire side of the street, but we were 
only one of many cars that ignored the sign. After all, it was a 
market day and that is a big thing around here. 
 
We walked the small ruins site, walked down into two damp and 
musty tombs that these folks are very proud of. We walked up the 
hill and that was that. We were finished with this place in a 
flash. In less than thirty minutes we were in the car and headed 
back to town. In driving back to the apartment we found 
ourselves next to our local Mercado, so we parked, went in and 
finished buying what we needed and made it back to the 
apartment. 
 
I worked on my monthly newsletter until I lost focus and 
interest in rapid succession. I went as far as I could and 
suggested that we walk to Zocalo and see what, if anything was 
happening. Nora, our landlady, was leaving at the same time we 
were. She asked us where we were headed and we just said we were 
walking to Zocalo for the sake of a walk. She forewarned us that 
something might be happening down there. There is an annual 
demonstration commemorating an October student demonstration in 
Mexico City in 1968 that turned violent and we think lives were 
lost. Nora is not always easily understood with our advancing 
hearing loss. 
 
By the time we got to Zocalo everything was done and gone with 
the graffiti on the walls as a reminder that something happened. 
It was a very brief walk near the Zocalo (it takes about 20 
minutes to get there from the apartment on foot). We went to the 
grocery and then to "our bakery" and headed for home. Along the 
way we passed our new next-door neighbors. We asked how their 
cooking class was yesterday and they said it exceeded their 
expectations. Then they asked me how I was feeling. They 
obviously read my blog and were wondering how my cold was doing 
and Hiroko told them I was much better, which was true. They 
asked us where "our bakery" was after reading about it on the 
blog. We told them and then we went our separate ways with a 
smile. 
 
We got home and it was almost six. Hiroko broke out the wine for 
herself. I threw back two jiggers of Mexcal in a fairly short 
time frame. Didn't you know that it is good cough medicine? I 
download the handful of good photos I took during the day to my 
laptop, organized them and uploaded them to the website after 
dong some more work on the monthly newsletters. I have a 
production deadline of the fifth of the month and I do not want 
to miss a production deadline, ever!
 
Before I knew it, the time for our late dinner of soup and salad 
was at hand. I did not have much of an appetite and just had my 
soup, which is like a liquid salad, a glass of wine and I 
returned the car to the lot. I got back and finished the day's 
blog and called it a night. Buenas Noches!


Wed. 1 Oct. 2008, Day 30 away from home, day 28 in country:

It was another day of waking up and feeling like warmed over 
death. The pain from the burns I got on Saturday sufficiently 
dissipated to the point where I am no longer am aware of it. I 
guess I have the cold to thank for part of that although in 
retrospect I think I would rather have dealt with the burn pains 
for a few more days and passed on the cold.
 
Knowing I needed to limit my activities so my body would recover 
from the cold sooner rather than later, we limited the scope of 
our activities for the day. I was busy tinkering with 
reformatting the photos for the website. Once the software I 
have been using for the formatting and the outputting of the web 
pages that holds the photos exceeded eighteen pages, it became 
unwieldy. I tried four images across, but that likely would have 
made things more difficult for many people to see as I tested 
what it looked like online and it wasn't rendering the way I had 
hoped it would. I tried to get the 'thumbnail' images smaller, 
but the software was not cooperating.
 
I had been taking some Contact cold remedy that I purchased at 
the supermarket and it was only giving me complete relief for a 
few hours at a time and marginal relief for most of the time. I 
could deal with the fevers (it was almost like dealing with the 
heat of the burns), but the incessant coughing and runny nose 
were getting old in a hurry. The symptoms from the cold here are 
different than those I am familiar with back at home. It was 
even different that the cold I got while in Koyasan, Japan back 
in December. I guess viruses get localized too.
 
We finally got our act together and left the apartment at around 
eleven. I am finding, much to my delight, that without having a 
television in the room (or anywhere else) I am able to 
accomplish much more output in the way of writing and photo 
viewing that I could ever do at home. I am now even getting some 
free time to catch up on my reading. I think I could easily live 
without a television. I would like to have access to movies 
though, as it is often the vehicle we use to put ourselves to 
sleep at night. The same thing could be accomplished on the 
seventeen-inch monitor on my laptop. I think it is time to go 
rent a video as Hiroko has been having difficulties sleeping. 
 
We walked to the parking lot to retrieve the car. It was 
sparkling clean and that pleased Hiroko to no end. Personally, I 
pay no mind to those things. I get my car washed only two to 
four times a year. It is not high on my list of priorities. The 
attendant at the parking lot only asked for twenty Pesos for 
hand washing the car. It was an exterior wash only. He did an 
excellent job and I gave him a ten Peso tip and this brought an 
ear-to-ear smile. 
 
We left the lot and the entry onto Calle Los Libres is always an 
adventure in and of itself. This is one of the busier traffic 
streets in the area. In the mornings when we retrieve the car 
there is always bumper-to-bumper traffic on this street. The 
street runs parallel to Avenida Republica, which is a major 
street through the city. Many vehicles, and especially busses, 
divert onto Los Libres to avoid the always congested round-about 
traffic intersection about four blocks south of our apartment 
and about five blocks south of the parking lot. There are five 
streets, with four of them major arteries, that intersect at 
that round-about and there are always cars stacked up in every 
direction there during most hours of the day.
 
Hiroko and I concluded many days ago that the people in this 
city are warm, kind, responsive to gestures of friendship or 
greetings from strangers and open to visitors to their city. 
They are perfectly delightful until they get behind the wheel of 
their cars and then they become inconsiderate, aggressive 
assholes. So, if you want to get into the flow of traffic from a 
parking lot or onto a main street from a side street, you have 
to be just as aggressive as they are. It did not take me very 
long to adjust to doing what I needed to do to drive here and 
get where I needed to go without having to deal with angry 
drivers behind me laying on their horns when passive drivers 
(mostly women) are too timid trying to get into the flow of 
traffic and patiently wait until a kind person behind the wheel 
of a car (a rare individual based on my experiences to date) 
will pause to let them proceed. Call me a chauvinistic pig if 
you like, but that is my perception of things here. Yesterday I 
watched a man in the passenger seat laying on the horn while a 
woman was behind the wheel while they were in bumper-ro-bumper 
traffic. I thought that was "over the top."
 
The driving aggression extends well beyond just other vehicles. 
If you try to cross the street and expect to have the cars slow 
down so you can safely cross the street, you are a likely 
candidate to become a road kill. I often think that some drivers 
speed up when they see a pedestrian trying to cross the street. 
They will cut off other vehicles, including ambulances on the 
way to the hospital with ill people inside, with one notable 
exception. They will not be aggressive around any vehicle with 
the passengers carrying automatic weapons. Unfortunately, there 
are a lot of those on the streets at all times of the day and 
night. While this is a bit unnerving, it does extend some 
element of security for us as we roam the streets knowing that 
someone in uniform from either municipal, state, federal or 
military cannot be too far away at all times. 
 
So, we make it onto Calle Los Libres and we are headed to the 
clinic to get Hiroko's glasses. Having a sense of how they do 
things here I did not expect them to be ready, but said nothing 
to Hiroko. When we got there the ladies politely looked high and 
low for them and then said at first Ma–ana and then Viernes 
(Friday). We looked at each other smiled, said Friday and 
thanked the ladies. I said Hasta Viernes and we were out the 
door. As we walked backed to the car, I turned to Hiroko and 
said, "typico."
 
Our destination this day was a return visit to Monte Alban. We 
had seen it on a rainy and overcast day and today was a bright 
and sunny one. Monte Alban is close to town, so I would not have 
to drive very far and the terrain is not difficult to navigate 
on foot, so it was a good option for the day. Before we headed 
out to Monte Alban, I drove back to the apartment to get some 
bottled water. The weather forecast called for a warmer day than 
we had been experiencing so far and carrying an adequate amount 
of water was important. 
 
I turned onto our street from Avenida Republica and we drove up 
our very bumpy cobblestone paved street towards our apartment. 
Just before we got to the intersection of Calle Heros Ni–os (our 
apartment is just off that intersection on the other side of it) 
we passed the place where we take our laundry. I stopped the car 
and rolled down the window to say hello to the very nice laundry 
lady. She made some verbal exclamation remark about our 
"coacha," but I did not get it. She asked me how I was feeling 
this day and I told her I was without a sore throat today. I 
then asked and found out her name was Rosie. I find it an 
appropriately sweet name for a sweet and delightful woman. I do 
love talking with Rosie whenever I see her in the lavateria or 
on the street.
 
We got to the apartment after our pleasant visit with Rosie and 
I grabbed some water and Hiroko's hat and we were off and 
running. On the way to Monte Alban we decided to stop at the 
planetarium. We had asked our landlord William if he knew their 
hours of operation, but he said he did not know. We figured 
since we were going to pass right by it we would stop and find 
out for ourselves. It was quite a drive up to the top of the 
hill, but it was worth it just for the view. 
 
Almost immediately after we parked the car in the appropriate 
place outside the planetarium, two open-backed troop transport 
trucks loaded with perhaps two dozen soldiers in full combat 
gear came driving up to the parking lot. The trucks parked on 
either side of our car and the soldiers jumped out with their 
automatic weapons at the ready and they began to fan out around 
the planetarium site. You can only imagine the thoughts that ran 
through my mind. We did our best to ignore them and went about 
our business of playing touristas.
 
There wasn't much to the planetarium, so we spent more time 
admiring the views from this hilltop, which is one of the 
tallest in the region. We got a better understanding of the 
layout of the city, as there were excellent views of the city to 
the north and to the west. We then walked back to the car, did 
some head nodding to some of the less hostile looking soldiers 
as we passed them on our way back to the car and slowly - very 
slowly - I would try to back out of the parking spot from 
between the two army trucks. 
 
Just as I put the car in reverse, and fully turned my body 
around to look out the back window as I backed up (something I 
rarely do as I rely on the mirrors mostly), one soldier walked 
directly behind the car. I know he knew we were backing up, but 
I was not going to argue with an AK-47 automatic submachine gun 
with the soldier having his finger on the trigger. I kid you 
not! I kept the car in reverse with my foot firmly on the brake. 
I was not looking to provoke an international incident or risk 
being accused of deliberately trying to run down a member of the 
Mexican army. 
 
As the soldier cleared away from my path with room to spare, I 
took my foot off the brake and was moving my foot towards the 
gas peddle when a second soldier stepped behind the car. I got 
the feeling they might be trying to provoke a situation, but I 
was not going to allow myself to be caught in such a silly game. 
Without saying a word or even making any facial or hand gestures 
whatsoever, I patiently waited for the second soldier to clear 
the area behind our car before I took my foot off the break even 
though we were on a light down slope and the car would not have 
moved backwards without my stepping on the gas peddle. After 
looking around to make sure the game was over, I very slowly 
backed out of the parking spot I was in and very slowly drove 
past the army truck to my left and made our way out of the 
parking lot. 
 
We drove downhill a bit then up to the observatory, which of 
course is not in operation in the middle of the day. We got 
great views of the Eastern part of town from there. We finally 
made our way down the hill and I was relieved that the army was 
nowhere in sight. We were now on our way to Monte Alban.
 
Having been at this expansive site before, we walked around the 
backside of the ruins to see what we did not see the last time 
there due to the rain. It was a very interesting perspective. We 
spoke to some locals that had a different approach to selling 
their stuff. They began by engaging us in pleasant conversation. 
One guy was from a tiny village off that way (as he pointed) and 
we conversed as best we could in Spanish, as he did not speak 
any English, which is always okay with me. I seem to be getting 
a lot of mileage out of my limited vocabulary (in Spanish if you 
were wondering). After several minutes of polite conversation 
out came the trinkets that he offered to sell to us. We politely 
said no thanks, wished him a pleasant day and we continued our 
meandering through the site. 
 
We came upon a second gentleman on our way to a tomb with the 
same sales approach only this guy spoke English. He lived in 
Salinas, CA and the Central Valley for a while. I asked him why 
he returned to Oaxaca and he said his family was here. Good 
enough reason. As soon as he went for his backpack to pull out 
some wares to sell us we were on our way again. The thought 
crossed my mind that everyone says the stuff they were selling 
was made by their own hands and yet the all looked exactly the 
same to me. 
 
We walked up, down and all around this magnificent place that 
could easily rival Machu Picchu in scope and magnitude if it was 
restored and bit more. After about an hour and a half I was 
wearing down and we made our way back to the apartment. Hiroko 
made lunch from the abundance of leftovers we have accumulated 
in the fridge and we ate a full midday meal. I was feeling a bit 
'punk', so I laid down for a nap and it was all over. I was out 
like a light for two to three hours. 
 
It was another light day and we had a light dinner, I took the 
car back to the lot at nine and that was it for this day. 
Hopefully I'll be felling better in the morning so we can do our 
trek to Zaachila for the Thursday market there. 


Tue. 30 Sept. 2008, Day 29 away from home, day 27 in country:

I woke up this morning sounding like warmed over death. After 
incessant coughing the night before from the cold, my throat was 
a bit raw, my sinuses were semi-clogged and eyes were watery and 
they probably look worse from the outside than they did from my 
side.
 
Hiroko's concerns rapidly shifted from the burns to the cold. I 
am glad her mind is off the burns. It is as though she needs 
something to worry about, as she tends to worry about many 
things.  We are polar opposites in many ways. The burn situation 
is no longer in the forefront of my consciousness. The only time 
I ever think about it is if I happen to touch my beard, 
moustache or my forehead where my hairline used to be and feel 
the stubble or the remnants of the damaged hair. 
 
I knew that we should not be doing too much today, as I needed 
to conserve my body's energy to fight off the cold. We lounged 
around in the morning and she did her thing in the computer and 
I did mine. I wrote, selected photos for the website and some 
other 'make busy' things. Hiroko was doing her yoga and it was a 
slow paced morning. I took our laundry down the street to the 
nice laundry lady. I need to ask her what her name is. While 
there she returned my large plastic bag with the Apple computer 
logo on it that she did not return with the last load and she 
also returned one of Hiroko's T-shirts that got separated from 
the last load. I told Hiroko that they knew it had to be hers 
because there are no other adults around here as petite as she 
is.
 
We eventually walked to the local Mercado and got what we needed 
for the immediate future. The availability of fresh everything 
here every day, with the exception of two notable items, makes 
it a breeze to always have fresh stuff around to eat. The two 
missing items are lemons and good cuts of beef.
 
The way they raise cattle here is radically different than it is 
in the states. There are no 'stock pens' that they raise cattle 
in, feeding them grains, antibiotics and chemicals fatten them 
up, tenderize the meat while still on the hoof and to limit 
their movement and thereby keep the meat tender. There are no 
stockyards here that really fatten the cattle up before 
slaughter.
 
Down here the cattle get to graze on the free and open range 
most of the time. While they may not have the pampered life of a 
Kobe head of cattle, they have a mostly stress free life here. 
Needless to say, with all the walking they do to graze here, 
there and everywhere, they build stronger muscles than cattle 
kept in pens. Since the cuts of meat we are typically familiar 
with are muscles, the meat here is much tougher than back in the 
States. The meat is almost always sliced very thin so it is 
easier to chew. I think you'd break a few teeth if you tried to 
chew on a thick steak of the meat down here.
 
Fortunately, Hiroko and I are not big meat eaters. Typically we 
will eat red meat once a month or so. We like all kinds of 
seafood, poultry and pork. The seafood up here in the mountains 
is never fresh. It is brought in frozen. The closest point to 
the ocean is a six-hour drive away. It simply is not practical 
to expect to find fresh fish here, but what we have eaten so far 
has been great. We have not tried the pork yet after being in 
the country for a month, so that tells you how little meat we 
actually consume. 
 
One of the concerns we had about living down here was the 
availability of good lettuce. Since we consume good healthy 
salads on a daily basis, lettuce is important to us and 
important for our diets. We do not consider iceberg lettuce as 
lettuce. It has little to no nutritional value and has virtually 
no fiber.  Prior to coming here we discussed the need to bring 
our own seeds with us and grow some descent lettuce here if and 
when we move here. The decision to live here is pretty firm in 
my mind, but Hiroko seems to want to explore our other options 
before deciding. 
 
Back on point, we were beyond surprised to see several different 
kinds of lettuce here and that is great. Romaine, oak leaf 
(green and red) and curly leaf are all readily available at our 
local Mercado, the large Central Mercado in town south of the 
Zocolo and we've even seen (and bought) nice lettuce from old 
Indian lady on the street. Speaking of Indians, we have yet to 
see any Indians (from India) or Chinese here. Usually we are 
accustomed to seeing those ethnic groups wherever we travel in 
the world. We have seen one Chinese restaurant near the Zocolo 
and we heard that there is a store that sells Asian food 
products, but we have not found it yet. It is in the western end 
of town and we only walk there infrequently.
 
After we returned to the apartment we disinfected the fresh 
produce items and wrapped the lettuce to "crisp" them in the 
fridge during the day while we were out. We retrieved the car 
from the parking lot and drove to the Soriana market. That is 
the huge and ultra modern one on the south end of town. We were 
running low on wine and needed a few other things. I have been 
keeping track of just about every dime we are spending here. It 
is not from a thrifty perspective as much as I want to find out 
precisely what it costs to live here. So far I have determined 
our number one expense has been for wine. We spend more money on 
wine than we do on gasoline. That also speaks volumes about how 
much walking we are doing versus driving here.
 
While at the shopping center where Soriana is located there is a 
Blockbuster video store and we went in to see if our Blockbuster 
card from CA was valid here. The dude at the counter said no and 
we left. We did our shopping and returned to the apartment. We 
parked the car, took all the stuff inside and headed for lunch. 
We were going to give another try at eating at Marco Polo 
restaurant on the park near us. The last time we tried it was 
closed. I seem to remember Anyez saying it was closed on 
Tuesdays, but what the hell. Walking over there I said to Hiroko 
that we should be prepared for the place to be closed. To our 
surprise it was open!
 
We made out way to a table in the back of this long and narrow 
restaurant. It was like walking through a forest cascade with 
low hanging tree branches throughout this outdoor restaurant 
tucked neatly into a very urban setting. Hiroko ordered a fish 
dish primarily (as she related to me) because it was baked in 
their outdoor adobe oven. To my eyes it could just have easily 
been a pizza oven. I ordered sautˇed octopus and squid. Both 
dishes were excellent. One of the condiments on the table was 
what I am calling liquid fire. It is a preparation of whipped 
jalapeno peppers and vegetable oil. 
 
After lunch we hoofed it to the Zocolo area. We had no 
particular objective in mind, we just needed to walk off lunch, 
have some coffee and go to our favorite bakery to restock, as I 
ate all the cookies last night. I tend to overload on comfort 
food when not feeling well and the cold was bothering me. We 
stopped for our afternoon coffee at Nuevo Mundo on Calle M. 
Bravo. We still have no clue what the "M" represents. I find it 
amusing that at home I rarely drink coffee but I tend to drink 
it relatively often when we travel.
 
This small local coffee shop, several block off the Zocolo, 
knows how to make coffee. We went there on the recommendation of 
Anyez and we must thank her for that. It happens to be located 
right next to the place where I went to meditate last Thursday 
evening with the Tibetan Buddhists. It is also the place where I 
took the photo of the framed lithograph on the wall above the 
table with a sugar bowl and a napkin holder filled with napkins.
 
I took the least amount of photos here today than any other day 
on this trip except when we did the overnight in Cuernavaca 
after our arduous drive through Mexico City. I did not take a 
single picture in Cuernavaca, which says volumes of how I felt 
about the place.
 
We walked as much as I could and when fatigue set in (the cold 
was draining my energy) we made our way back to the bakery and 
then home. Back at the apartment I had to write the monthly 
newsletter and get it off to my editor Rosemary in Boston. 
Considering I had been writing more every day on this blog than 
the content of the monthly newsletter, you would think that 
would be a piece of cake. It wasn't hard, but it did not flow 
out of the tips of my fingers as it normally does. I guess I am 
distracted by stuff other than the complete chaos and turmoil of 
our domestic financial markets. In a way I am glad I am not a 
home during these turbulent times as I might have been too 
absorbed in it.
 
I wrote, we ate, we drank and we called it a day.


Mon. 29 Sept. 2008, Day 28 away from home, day 26 in country:

With each passing day I am getting further from the pain and 
discomfort from the burns. However, Mother Nature had another 
idea on how to take my mind off the situation: the common cold.
 
I got up with a minor soar throat, a runny nose and a bit of 
head congestion. I didn't give it much thought and went into my 
morning routine after awakening from a good night's sleep with 
the aid of a sleeping pill. 
 
On our agenda for today was a trip to a remote place named 
Hierve El Agua. It is a natural spring and as the name implies 
(herbs) it is believed to have some healing qualities. I was 
moving slowly today for a variety of reasons, so we got out 
late. It was a brilliantly sunny day as we left. However, past 
experience has taught us to always carry an umbrella. 
 
We deduced from looking at a local map that we had to go passed 
the town of Mitla to get to where we wanted to go. Anyez 
cautioned us against going into the mountains on dirt roads 
during the rainy season, but we ignored that suggestion. We were 
off and running. 
 
We got to Mital, saw a sign directing us down the road and we 
followed that sign. We only saw one other sign along the way to 
help us out, which was not enough. It wasn't long before we were 
driving on a dirt road through a quaint (and nameless to us) 
village. We stopped and asked a local woman on the street for 
directions, and she was either not clear enough or we 
misunderstood her (entirely possible). We headed out in the 
direction we thought she told us to go.
 
As we drove down this dirt road crossing a few streams and 
passing some shepherds with their flocks of cattle, goats, 
burros and dogs we came to the end of the road where it looked 
as though the farmer we just passed had plowed up the road with 
his ox drawn plow with him walking behind it. I stopped the car 
and walked towards the mountain while Hiroko waited in the car. 
I saw what looked like an earthen damn and a spillway made of 
stone. I thought it might be the place, but we had no way of 
getting there. 
 
I turned back and returned to the car. I told Hiroko what I saw 
and then walked towards the farmer plowing his field and asked 
him how we could find our destination. After he gave me the 
directions he asked me for money for taking photos of him 
plowing his field with his animals. At times I find it very 
convenient to say, "Lo siento, no entiendo (I'm sorry, but I 
don't understand)." Since I am an obvious "Gringo", it works.
 
We drove back through hill, dale and streams and made it back to 
the small village without paved roads. Thinking there might be a 
chance the farmer gave me a bum steer for not giving him money, 
I stopped in town and stopped the car when I saw a gentleman in 
his front yard through a partially opened solid wooden gate. The 
kind gentleman pointed me in the right direction. It was a bumpy 
ride on a one-lane dirt road that was winding its way up the 
mountain. We sensed we were headed in the right direction. We 
also understood why Anyez cautioned us against trying this road 
in the rainy season. I could see cars easily sliding off the 
road and into oblivion on this unpaved treacherous mountain 
road. 
 
Although the drive was tricky and the road was difficult (so 
glad we were in our all-wheel drive vehicle for this) the views 
were somewhere between breathtaking and spectacular. We often 
forget that you are supposed to see great distances in the 
natural world when the air had not been fouled with pollutants. 
Here the air was crisp, clean and did not impede your seeing for 
many miles in any direction, including towards the town of 
Oaxaca. We did not encounter another vehicle on this back road 
into Hierve El Agua.
 
Alas, the arrival and reality of the place did not meet my 
expectations. We drove through a tiny village and made our way 
to the springs where, of course, we were required to pay an 
entry fee. There were many stalls for serving food and drink to 
people and almost all of them were closed. We presumed that the 
place draws more people on the weekend, although I could not 
imagine why?
 
There were two springs that we could easily see that were 
percolating crystal clear water to the surface from somewhere 
deep within the mountain. There must be a tremendous amount of 
mineral content to that water as there were mineral deposits 
everywhere that had to have accumulated over centuries. My major 
disappointment was that the water was cold. I also thought that 
these mountainous sulfur springs were always hot. I guess I know 
better now. We walked around a bit, I chatted with a local who 
took us on a very brief tour of a trail with a better view of 
the pool and the mineral deposits they are so proud of.
 
We walked back towards the parking area, had a snack at one of 
the remaining open eateries if you can call them that. They are 
perhaps one step above a sidewalk pushcart with a blue tarp roof 
snapping with each wind gust and a few tables with rickety 
plastic chairs. At least the snack was good and we were off 
again, this time headed for the town of Tlacolula where we 
experience our first Sunday market there and we wanted to make a 
comparison between Sunday and a weekday.
 
Our day's adventure took a wrong turn on our return trip and we 
were off into who knows where before we stopped and Hiroko asked 
a taxi driver how to get to Oaxaca. We were driving in the wrong 
direction for about half an hour. 
 
The difference was like night and day in Tlacolula. There were 
relatively few people in the streets. We literally drove almost 
right up to the Mercado Publico to park when the last time we 
had to park perhaps eight to ten block away. We parked next to 
the perimeter wall of the church courtyard between a municipal 
police pick-up truck and a Volkswagen Beetle. We were the only 
three vehicles parked on the street so close to the Mercado.
 
Inside, the Mercado Publico had less than a third of the stalls 
were occupied with vendors. My initial search was for a public 
bathroom and I was finally directed to one after asking two 
people where I might find one. I got there and paid my 2 Pesos 
and was handed a receipt and a precisely measured amount of 
toilet tissue. I thought that was priceless.I guess if the paper 
was not enough (it was very little) you could use the receipt if 
you had to. I also carry a small travel packet of tissues just 
in case. 
 
So here we are looking around the Mercado and happen upon some 
interesting looking bread with chocolate baked into it. We got 
that and some produce and looked around a bit before we headed 
out and back to Oaxaca. As we exited the Mercado and made our 
way back to the car we heard a band playing. The quality of the 
music was sufficiently bad that I told Hiroko it had to be live, 
that nobody would make a recording that bad. I thought that 
there was another excuse for a parade.
 
A long black limousine pulled up along side of me as we got to 
the corner and it was a casket-carrying vehicle. We had stumbled 
into a funeral procession with a band playing and ladies 
carrying large bouquets of flowers followed by someone aiding 
the grieving widow walk down the street and mourners in close 
pursuit. I took many photos, but I thought better of taking any 
photos of the grieving widow.
 
After the large procession walked passed us, the pallbearers 
took the casket out of the limo, hoisted in onto their shoulders 
and marched down the street (passing us and our car) and turned 
into the church courtyard. Just then the church bells began to 
chime and I could hear singing emanating from within the church.  
We let everyone pass us by and we got into the car and made our 
way out of town. 
 
We got back to town, parked the car at our parking station, went 
to the Z—calo area in hot pursuit of a chicken roasted on a spit 
at one of those Roasterias. Hiroko was unsure of where it was, 
but I knew exactly where to go. Along the way we passed the Mr. 
Potato Face stand. He was not ready to make any sales yet, so we 
would stop by on our way home. 
 
We got the birdie, we got the chips, we went back to the 
apartment and that was it for the day. I needed to kick back and 
nurse what had become a full-blown head and chest cold. Hasta 
Ma–ana.


Sun. 28 Sept. 2008, Day 27 away from home, day 25 in country:

It does not seem to matter what time I go to sleep, I am always 
up around 5:30 to 6:00 AM. This morning was no different. I had 
some difficulties sleeping during the night due to the burns on 
my arms. I rarely sleep in one position all night long. Every 
time I would roll over and my arm would touch anything I was up. 
I don't think Hiroko slept very well until I got up and she 
asked me how I was doing. Of course, I reflexively said I was 
fine. At the time I thought I was. She rolled over and got some 
sound sleep after that while I sat in the kitchen at the 
computer writing about my recollections of the night before.
 
It was not very long before the pain began to creep up on me. My 
face seems to be bothering me this morning as though I had a bad 
sunburn. My arm pain started the morning off that way, but 
steadily progressed from a bad sunburn pain to something 
somewhat worse than that. It wasn't long before I was hitting 
the medicine bottle looking for relief. 
 
Hiroko awakened about ninety minutes after I did. I had already 
squeezed our morning juice, drank mine and placed hers in a 
glass in the fridge. I got the coffee pot set up for her and all 
we had to do was through the switch to the on position when she 
was out of the bedroom. It did not take her very long to figure 
out that I was experiencing some level of discomfort with the 
burns, but in retrospect, it could have been a thousand times 
worse. I am grateful that the damage to my body was as minimal 
as it turned out to be. There is little doubt that I will be 
losing some skin off my arm. It is only a question of magnitude 
and how and when it will happen. My hope is that when I lose the 
epidermis that the skin below is not raw and open to infection. 
That would be scary as my body does not have the acquired 
immunities to any micro organisms here that the locals have 
gained antibodies to since birth that was not in my body's 
repertoire. 
 
I had to be careful moving forward. One thing that had to do was 
to absolutely protect my skin from any and all exposure to 
sunlight. One of the things I brought along on the trip was a 
tube of SPF 50 total block and I would be wearing long sleeves 
this day (even though it was brilliant sunshine and it was going 
to be hot), a hat that offered superior sun protection and the 
sunscreen. I was ready.
 
Hiroko and I got absorbed in what we were doing and lost track 
of time and neglected to get the car out of the parking area. On 
Sunday morning the place is only open from 7:00 AM to 9:00 AM 
and if you do not retrieve your car in that time frame, you are 
shit out of luck. I went into the shower. Mornings are my time 
to shower here and Hiroko showers in the evening. It seems as 
though there is not enough capacity for hot water for both of us 
(and our neighbors in the next unit) to have a hot shower in 
close proximity to one another even if we both take military 
showers. A military shower is water on and get wet: water off 
and soap up or shampoo: rise off and I think you get the 
routine. 
 
When I came out of the shower Hiroko exclaimed, "Oh Shit! We 
forgot the get the car." It was already 9:30 AM and we had to 
look to Plan B for the day as driving out to the big Sunday 
market on the way towards Mitla was no longer an option. We 
discussed taking public transportation to Monte Alban, but I 
86'd the idea. I wanted to either stay in town where there would 
be more shade and had to option to go indoors as necessary. 
Being out in the open with my skin with the condition it was in 
was not a good idea in my book. I got no argument. We went to 
the local Mercado and stocked up on the provisions we needed for 
the day and slightly beyond. We got what we needed and returned 
to the apartment with our booty.
 
We were sitting at the table with our fingers dancing across our 
keyboards when William our landlord happened by our open door. 
We related the story of the oven to him and he told us that the 
same thing happened to his mother-in-law and her eyebrows never 
came back. That was not exactly what I wanted to hear at that 
moment.  We also related the car lockout story and William made 
a very generous offer. He and Nora, his wife, were going to 
visit a friend of hers, Claudia Martinez Vargus, at her art 
studio. Claudia was busily packing her work for transport to 
Mexico City for a showing there. When I told William that my 
sister was an artist that does collage in mixed media, he told 
me we would love the work of Claudia. He generously extended an 
offer to us to join them and we gladly accepted the offer.
 
Claudia and her husband (whose name alludes me at the moment) 
are both talented, brilliant artist in their chosen media. 
Claudia collects other peoples junk, garbage and discarded items 
like soda cans, milk containers, plastic soda bottles and the 
like and turns them into art. Her work is unique, creative and 
nothing sort of brilliant. Her husband has a talent that is not 
to be believed. 
 
Can you imagine creating figurines on the head of a match? That 
is precisely what her husband does. He also does it without 
using glasses or a microscope! I watched him painstakingly hand 
paint these figurines while I looked over is shoulder and 
photographed him at work. He was totally ambivalent about his 
wife showing four people around their tiny studio (less than 100 
square feet) with a tin roof that was radiating a lot of heat 
from being hit by the intense sunlight of this brilliant 
cloudless morning. His sons and their friend were just outside 
the doorway (no door) practicing their guitar riffs and I was 
shooting photos over his shoulder and he just kept on doing his 
thing. 
 
It was a joy to behold not just the mastery of his skills as an 
artist, but his focus and intensity of him working. The only 
thing that got him to make comment or change his focus was when 
their small dog would growl at either me or at William. For the 
rest of us we needed the aid of magnifying glasses to view the 
brilliance of his work. It is simply impossible for people with 
normal vision to even see the detail of his work, much less 
creating things that small.
 
It wasn't that long before we were back in William's SUV and 
headed back towards Calle de Ignacio Aldama and our apartment. 
Along the way William mentioned that he was dropping Nora off at 
the neighborhood Mercado and we were welcome to join her if we 
wanted to. Of course, we said yes. We were interested in finding 
out what some of the unrecognizable produce stuff we were seeing 
regularly was and what they were used for. William dropped us 
off at the Mercado and told us he'd see us back at the 
homestead. 
 
Nora has regular vendors that she frequents here, but it seems 
as though everyone knows her. I was pleased to see that some of 
the places where I had chosen to buy stuff based on my 
perception of the quality of the produce were on her list of the 
best places to buy from. She made many recommendations of what 
to buy and from whom. When she finished with our guided tour 
through the Mercado she headed home and we headed towards the 
Z—calo area.
 
We came across the same gymnasium that we watched a bit of the 
girls basketball game the other day only today it was ladies 
volleyball going on. We watched for a while and then we were off 
again. We walked and walked and walked and ventured into what we 
were told was the "bad neighborhood." Of course, the streets 
were busy with people and merchants, so I had no concern 
whatsoever about personal safety even with my large camera 
around my neck. The good neighborhoods were dead quiet on a 
Sunday, or at least this Sunday. 
 
 I had the long tele-zoom lense on the camera, as I wanted to 
capture people from a long way off without them noticing it too 
easily. Mission accomplished as I think I got some great shots. 
I'll find out in the morning when I scrutinize them. Hiroko had 
her fill of walking, so we made our way back to the apartment. I 
made another batch of guacamole and another pot of vegetable 
soup. Hiroko made a salad and we were ready for dinner. 
 
It was around 8:30 PM when Hiroko asked me if I was ready for 
some "sleepy-time" tea or my chamomile tea. I said neither: I 
wanted to go out. She was reluctant, but agreed. We walked to 
the Santo Domingo church area and saw some chairs and a 
bandstand being broken down with gentlemen dressed in what 
looked like (to me) colonial palace guard costumes. We obviously 
missed something happening. 
 
We walked down Calle Alcala and I saw my potato chip guy off in 
the distance. I had been looking for him for days. Mr. Cara de 
Papa (Mr. Potato Face) was there tonight. If you have never 
eaten real potato chips hot right out of the oil, you have never 
tasted real potato chips. They were awesome. I convinced Hiroko 
to try one and she said you could actually taste the potatoes. 
That is something you do not experience with chips out of 
hermetically sealed "off the shelf," laden with chemicals potato 
chips. 
 
We walked some more and found little of interest. I suggested we 
stop for a drink somewhere, but Hiroko was not interested in 
that. As we were making our way back towards Independencia to 
turn towards the church festival we had seen earlier at the 
intersection of Independencia and Los Libres (the street where 
our car is parked) a young girl no older than eight or nine 
years old came up to us and asked me for the bag of "papas" I 
had in my hand. I'd be hard pressed to say no to a child asking 
me for some food I had in my hand. We gave them to her and 
continued on our way.
 
My camera ran out of battery power before we made it to the 
church fiesta, so we turned towards home to call it a night. We 
got back to the apartment, Hiroko made some tea, I worked on 
today's blog finishing it and she was already in bed by the time 
I finished writing this. It is now 10:30 PM and I think I am 
going to take a "knock out" pill tonight and see if I can sleep 
soundly so rolling over onto my arm will not shock me into being 
awake and maybe, just maybe, I'll sleep past 5:30 AM. Perhaps 
I'll need it to not hear the damn fireworks that are going off 
right now. They are close and loud. Later... 


Sat. 27 Sept. 2008, Day 26 away from home, day 24 in country:


This was a lazy Saturday morning for us. We had time to fill 
until we went to the clinic for Hiroko to get her eyes examined 
to get new lenses for her glasses. After that we were going to 
visit with our friend Anyez on the outskirts of town.
 
We had no trouble finding the clinic as William gave us great 
directions. Nora, William's wife, is the sister a member of the 
staff of the eye doctor we were going to see on the 
recommendation of William. He had arranged the appointment for 
us. I was surprised to see how bright and modern the inside of 
the clinic was. You would never have guessed it from looking at 
the building exterior. That seems to be the case with many of 
the buildings in this city.
 
We had a few obstacles to overcome, including filling out a 
medical history form for Hiroko that was written in Spanish 
only. Naturally, nobody other than the doctor spoke any English, 
but we were forewarned of this and we managed. First they 
checked the prescription of her current lenses and then they did 
a thorough eye exam to determine her current prescription. They 
use the same modern equipment used in the states. 
 
All went well and Hiroko gave them her favorite frames to 
receive the new lenses. The cost for an eye exam here is about 
half of what we would pay at home and the cost of lenses was 
only about 20% less. It was past time for her to take care of 
this, so cost was not an object. The new lenses would be ready 
to pick up on Wednesday. After we finished our business there I 
asked if I could use the phone and called Anyez. 
 
Anyez answered her home phone and we arranged to meet roadside 
on the autopista libra (free highway) to Mexico City and we 
would then follow her up to her house. We knew it was supposed 
to be before Villa de Etla turnoff, so when we got to Etla we 
knew we missed it. We hung a u-turn, went back and found her 
waiting just where she said she would be. We went through the 
village of San Sebastian, but missed it, as there really isn't 
anything there to speak of. 
 
Driving on the side roads that go into the countryside can be a 
real adventure. Aside from having to navigate around cavernous 
potholes that dot the roads, there are other obstacles to be 
alert to along the way. Of course, there are the Topes only they 
are not always marked and there was one market\d, but there was 
no tope where it was indicated to be. We wanted an adventure and 
we are living one. 
 
Yes, Anyez lives in a house in a field with no street name or 
number. It was a charming little house on a nice sized lot with 
a front patio or covered porch that looks up the hill to San 
Augustin and the old textile factor and the church. We got the 
deluxe tour of the main house that was in the process of having 
extensive work being done to it, inside and out. The bathroom is 
inside this main house. The other building, adjacent to the main 
one, is where the kitchen and the bedroom are located. The 
configuration was a bit odd, as you had to go outside the 
kitchen door and outside the building to go into another outside 
entry door to get to the bedroom. I could see where that might 
cause difficulties in heavy rains they have been having here 
lately.  
 
Anyez asked me to take some photos of the house and the clutter 
there for her. Her younger brother was coming for a visit from 
the Netherlands in October and she wanted him to be prepared for 
what the living conditions would be like so he had the option of 
staying at a nearby hotel if he wanted to. I have a sense that 
she would prefer that and keep her privacy. Anyone that likes 
living in a relatively remote area, alone, surely likes to have 
privacy. While all this was going on I noticed her next-door 
neighbor had a donkey and it was at the fence that separated the 
two properties. Of course,  I walked over to the fence and said 
hello to the donkey. I was surprised at how soft the fur was on 
this passive creature. 
 
Anyez was the perfect hostess offering us the beverage of our 
choosing and she just happened to have some dark beer in the 
fridge, which was my preference. Hiroko had some tea and Anyez 
broke out some crispy toast and some salmon spread and we sat 
and talked for for nearly two hours. We wanted to get caught up 
on what was happening at our Sangha (Buddhist meditation group) 
back in Berkeley. We gave her a rundown on who was new and how 
the folks she was familiar with were doing. It was just great 
seeing one of my spiritual sisters again. She moved back to 
Oaxaca in March of this year and prior to moving to Berkeley she 
lived in Oaxaca for six years.
 
It was approaching 2:30 and Hiroko was starving and ready for 
lunch. All she had to eat this morning was a banana and some 
yogurt. Anyez must have sense this, as we were making ready to 
go to San Augustin Etla and lunch. Anyez was busily closing up 
the house and dealing with the gardeners and gentleman that were 
building a shed for her so she had a place to move much of her 
clutter to. We do tend to accumulate stuff, don't we. 
 
Anyez gave us a choice of three local restaurants that she 
frequents regularly when she does not feel like cooking. All 
were in close proximity to her house. We opted for the one with 
the more sophisticated cooking. There are no menus at this 
restaurant. They come out and tell you your choice of two 
different soups and two different entrees. That made it easy for 
us. We ordered one of each and that way we could sample 
everything. I ordered beef with a Oaxacan soup and Hiroko 
ordered chicken with chicken soup. The food was really good and 
the atmosphere was very typical for the area. Clearly this was a 
restaurant for locals. 
 
After lunch we got a tour of San Augistin Etla, the plaza, the 
church, and the former textile factory that was a spectacularly 
beautiful building and grounds. Originally the place was taken 
over by artists that rehabilitated the structure and grounds. 
They had planned to make this into a global destination 
dedicated to the study and appreciation of the arts. Classes, 
seminars, cinemas and education were all in the eyes of the 
fifty or so artists that embarked on the project. Unfortunately, 
as is often the case the artists' dreams were larger than their 
financial wherewithal. The government stepped in and has taken 
over security and oversight for the project, but it really needs 
someone with deep pocket and vision to bring the place to its 
fullest potential. The worst part is the governor of this state 
gets to pock who will display there z\and who will not and this 
is not good situation for an open arts environment. At present 
the place is being underutilized. My sister Sanda would love to 
be a part of this project and place, were she not in her present 
physical condition.
 
Having completed the tour, we went to the local paper factory, 
but it was closed. We are becoming accustomed to that happening 
to us on this trip. We drove back to Anyez's house and realized 
that it was already past 5:00 PM and we told Anyez we had plans 
for the evening and needed to get back to town. We also told her 
that we would be in town for more than two more weeks and that 
we had to get together with her again. She seemed pleased at the 
prospect and she walked us to our car. 
 
We made our way back to the main highway with only one u-turn 
required. I was sure that I could find my way back to her house 
unassisted for our next visit and I was looking forward to that. 
For what happened after that you'll have to read the El Noche 
section of this day's blog.

Sat. 27 Sept. 2008,  El Noche:

This is a day I will likely remember for the rest of my life. If 
it was not for some plain "dumb luck" Hiroko and I might not be 
alive today to write or edit this day's blog.
 
Last evening after we returned to our apartment we were each 
busy with out own stuff and then Hiroko asked if I was ready to 
eat at sometime after 7:00 PM. I said yes and she began to 
prepare one of her great homemade pizzas using bread, fresh 
vegetables and cheese. She was working sort of behind me and to 
my right side and I was not paying close attention to what she 
was doing, as I was absorbed in working on the photos for the 
website.
 
Hiroko has interrupted me and said, "I forgot we needed to light 
the oven. Could you do that?" Of course I got up and for some 
reason I opened the oven door before I made my way towards the 
sink area where the box of matches was sitting. Hiroko 
interrupted me again asking if I wanted the lighter (instead of 
using the stick matches) we had, and I said no. I firmly believe 
those two minor things saved our lives.
 
Hiroko did not tell me how long she had the gas on before she 
realized that the oven was not getting hot and asked me to light 
the over for her. My opening the oven door, removing the bottom 
splash try to get the match directly on the burners disturbed 
the gas that had accumulated in the oven. The handful of seconds 
it took me to get the matches, reply to Hiroko's question about 
the lighter and then bend down to light the oven also allowed 
more gas to dissipate from inside the oven. I still do not know 
why the gas never made its way up to the pilot lights for the 
cook-top burners. If it had, there likely would have been a 
massive explosion that would have likely killed us and destroyed 
most of this structure that contained our apartment and the one 
next door.
 
I squatted down, sort of sitting on my heels, and struck the 
match on the scratch pad on the side of the box and lit the 
burner. It took somewhere between one and two seconds and I was 
looking death squarely in the face! A massive fireball, mostly 
blue, with some yellow mixed in here and there was coming 
straight at my face. The heat and the intensity of the fireball 
knocked me backwards and away from the oven. Hiroko thinks I 
reflexively raised my left arm to protect my face, because that 
was where I was burnt most: on the underside of my left arm. 
That part of the arm would be facing the oven when in front of 
my face.
 
I do not know where Hiroko was standing when the fireball came 
out of the oven and hit me square in the face, but she was not 
burnt. I was now face down on the kitchen floor writhing in 
pain. Hiroko asked if I wanted a cold towel and I said yes. I do 
not know how long she had been gone and in the bathroom to get a 
towel and wet it, but it seemed like forever. The pain was 
rapidly building in intensity and I shouted for her to please 
hurry. I vaguely remember saying at some point that my face was 
burnt and I was not even noticing the worst burns yet that were 
on my arm. My primary concern at that moment was the piercing 
deep pain on my face. I was also concerned about that awful 
smell of singed hair surrounding me. My eyes were shut tight and 
for some reason I did not try to open them yet.
 
Hiroko arrived with the cold wet towel and I rolled over onto my 
back, still sort of wiggling around on the floor in pain. She 
went to the fridge and got some ice out of the freezer 
compartment and placed some ice cubes on top of the wet towel on 
top of my face. I do not recall saying much at that time, but I 
am quite certain being as vocal as I am that some utterances 
were coming out of my mouth. The ice was beginning to cool down 
my superheated face and that is when I noticed how badly burnt 
my left arm was. I must have been in shock for a few minutes 
because after the adrenalin began to wear off, the pain levels 
went up considerably. 
 
While laying on my back on the floor with the towel on my face I 
asked Hiroko how much of my hair had been singed away and she 
said. "a lot." I became concerned for my eyes. I am so visually 
oriented that the thought of losing even part of my vision was 
an unbearable thought. She was sitting on the floor at the top 
of my head stroking my head trying to comfort me. 
 
I remembered that I brought along a bottle of Aloe Vera lotion 
on the trip in case I got too much exposure to the sun and got 
sunburned. I asked Hiroko to go retrieve that bottle from the 
top shelf in the bathroom. Don't ask me how in the world I 
remembered exactly where I put that bottle of lotion two weeks 
ago, but I did. She brought it to me while I was still lying on 
my back on the floor with the wet towel over my face. 
 
When she came back with the bottle of lotion I sat up and put 
some on my left arm first and then on my face. I believe that I 
opened my eyes for the first time when she handed me the bottle 
of lotion. I am not sure why I keep my eyes shut tight for so 
long. Perhaps out of fear that I might not be able to see. I was 
wearing my anteojos (eye-glasses) and that must have saved my 
eyes. After dousing my face and arm with that green aloe stuff I 
headed for the bathroom to see what my face looked like. I knew 
I was able to see because I could see the aloe bottle when 
Hiroko handed it to me, but the first thing Hiroko asked me when 
I gazed into the mirror was, Can you see?" I said yes.
 
I was relived that there was no charring or disfigurement on my 
face. That was somewhat reassuring. I then noticed that most of 
my left eyebrow was gone. The right eyebrow was about half 
singed away. Hiroko has been complaining of late that my 
eyebrows have become too bushy as I aged. She had asked a few 
times if she could trim them, but after saying no to her few 
requests in the recent past, she gave up on that one. She will 
not have to worry about needing to trim my eyebrows for a while. 
I sort of smiled to myself inside momentarily thinking of some 
of my friends that were dealing with thinning hair on the top-
front of their heads and gained a bit of empathy for them just 
then. The pain made that thought leave quickly.
 
Quite a bit of the hair in the front on the top of my head had 
been singed and my moustache and beard are now very well 
cropped. It took a while before I noticed that my eyelashes were 
just about completely gone. There was just some stubble left 
close to the eyelids. I know that blue flames are the hottest 
and I shuttered at the thought of what might have happened to my 
eyes if I took off my glasses to light the oven. Hiroko came 
into the bathroom while I was still standing there, no longer 
looking into the mirror. From my perspective it is never a 
pretty sight looking at my face, much less now with it being 
burnt and with some very smelly singed hair all around it. 
 
Hiroko asked if she could do anything else for me and I said, "I 
just need to be left alone for a while." At that moment my only 
thought was how to deal with the pain that was building in 
intensity. My left arm was beginning to really hurt. I decided 
to lay down on the bed and go into my deep breathing and 
relaxation routines and "breathe into the pain" to try to block 
it. This technique often works for me and it had a much-needed 
calming effect and it did minimize some of the pain without 
eliminating it. It was after a few minutes of breathing while 
laying on my back with my eyes closed that I realized the extent 
of the burn on my left arm.
 
I summoned Hiroko to bring me the bottle of aloe lotion again. I 
heaped gobs of it on my left arm and I believe that saved me 
from blistering and losing a lot of skin off the arm. It also 
has a minor cooling effect and it is supposed to have an effect 
on sunburn pain, but this was a bit too much for just aloe to 
mitigate. Hiroko has asked me if I wanted some Motrin for the 
pain and my initial reaction was no, but I quickly changed my 
mind. I took 600 mg and lay down again. 
 
While laying there as the pain began to subside a bit, my 
thoughts and concerns shifted to Hiroko. How terrible she must 
have been feeling at the moment. When I realized how my request 
to be left alone for a while might have been received or 
interpreted, I summoned her to come to the bedroom. I asked her 
to sit on the edge of the bed bedside me. I told her, " You 
should not be beating yourself up over this. It was just an 
accident." I also said that was probably easier said than done, 
but I wanted her to let go of it. After being together for 27 
years, I know how she thinks. Of course, she blamed herself, but 
I tried repeatedly to get her to let go of it and that I would 
be fine, even tough I was uncertain of that while the words were 
coming out of my mouth.
 
At some point as things unfolded the discussion came up about 
whether or not I should go to the hospital. I opted to not go 
unless it was essential. If my skin began to blister, then I 
knew I would have no choice but to go to the hospital or risk 
serious infections or worse. Luckily, it never came to that. 
 
After a while the pain was bearable and I got off the bed and 
went into the kitchen area where Hiroko was at her computer at 
the table. I could not put my shirt on because the pain of 
anything touching the arm, including cloth, was too intense. 
Saying nothing, I went to the table and sat down at the computer 
and started to do stuff. I was trying to act as normally as I 
could under the circumstance. I do not recall much conversation 
going on other than perhaps my trying to reassure her that I was 
okay and would be fine.  She asked if I wanted to eat dinner. 
The last thing on my mind was eating and the pain usurped any 
appetite I might have had, but I said yes anyway. I felt that at 
that particular point she was probably in worse shape 
emotionally than I was physically. 
 
I ate dinner with my left arm holding onto the shelves at the 
end of the table and against the wall. I did not want anything 
to touch it, as the skin was red, raw and incredibly sensitive 
to anything touching it. I thought I was going to come out of my 
chair when a housefly landed on it. My left arm was an ugly 
site, but I pretended everything was normal and finished my 
dinner. After diner we had some tea in the bedroom while we both 
looked at the photos I took that day. After a while we had that 
herbal tea and called it a night. And what a night it was.
 
I just now noticed that box of matches that I used to light the 
oven and light up our evening. It was under the table and 
against the leg of the table. I must have come flying out of my 
left hand as I threw it up into my face. The matches were about 
six feet to the right of where I was in front of the oven and 
they were in my left hand as I struck the match against the box 
with my right hand. 



Fri. 26 Sept. 2008, Day 25 away from home, day 23 in country:

This morning Hiroko and I awakened at about the same time. I 
asked her how she slept and the herbal tea worked for her too. 
It wasn't long before she said we should buy a truckload of the 
stuff, take it home and sell it. I guess she liked what it did 
for her. She thought it gave her some feeling of having been 
drugged shortly after taking it, but there were no symptoms of 
that in the morning. We'll have to go up on the web and find out 
what the ingredients are, as our dictionary does not have a 
translation for them.
 
I keep forgetting to talk about the citrus here. First of all, 
there are no lemons to be seen anywhere. Not on trees, not in 
stores, not in the Mercado. Oranges, limes and grapefruit: no 
problem. When I need a lime for my beverage of choice (hot water 
with lime juice), I simply go out the front door of our 
apartment and there (about seven to ten feet) in front of me is 
a tall lime tree with an abundance of limes. I had previously 
told Hiroko that even if we were here for several months I could 
not possibly exhaust the supply of limes on that tree.
 
The oranges that are typical to this area a very different than 
what we are used to back in the States. You could not sell the 
oranges here in the States. They are varying shades of green and 
mottled with either dark veining or dark blotches. The first day 
here I bought what I thought was a plastic container of orange 
juice. It turned out to be one of those crappy orange drinks 
with only a fraction of juice in it. It was then I decided we 
were going to buy oranges and make our own juice each morning. I 
believe I discussed buying the juicer at the Ocatlan open-air 
market last week.
 
The first batch of oranges we bought was off the back of a truck 
on the road between Mitla and Oaxaca on our return trip from one 
of the archeological sites. As is usual when you buy a sack full 
of oranges there are always one or two that were not up to 
snuff. Thereafter, I was going to have to pick every orange I 
bought at the local Mercado and a load of oranges can weigh a 
lot and the Big Mercado south of the central plaza was a long 
walk to make with a heavy load. 
 
In yesterday's blog I neglected to mention that I hand picked 
and gently squeezed every one of those eighteen oranges 
yesterday. They were considerably larger than the ones we got in 
the sack off the back of the truck. I guess the "sack" and 
"stack" the ones they cannot sell individually in the Mercados.  
As I squeezed the oranges the ones I found to be juicy enough 
for me I tossed into one of those open-weave mesh sacks you are 
accustomed to seeing all the time packed with oranges, or other 
produce. It was higher math when it was time to pay for the 
oranges. She asked me how many I had and simply told me that it 
would be eighteen Pesos for my eighteen oranges. 
 
I squeeze the oranges into a large plastic container with the 
squeezer well down into the round container. Why? The oranges 
are very juicy and if you do not use something like that you 
will get juice flying everywhere with the type of juicer we are 
using. When I finished juicing the six oranges that we usually 
squeeze every morning and poured it into glasses for drinking 
Hiroko commented on volume of juice being noticeably greater 
this morning. I told her that is because I only hand picked the 
juicy ones and left the drier ones for someone else to buy.
 
As it is a Friday I have a lot of writing and work to do in 
preparation for the weekly newsletter that must go out whether I 
am traveling or not. We still have a mortgage and lots of other 
expenses to pay and we are not independently wealthy. Not doing 
my newsletters for two months would essentially put me out of 
that business, and since I love doing it...
 
I finished my work and we got our act together and headed out. 
We were going to give it another go at the Museum of Modern Art. 
Well, as luck would have it we finally figured out what was 
going on with that museum. There is some renovation work going 
on, so it is closed during the day and it opens at 6:30 in the 
evening. We'll have to work that into our schedule one of these 
days. It is good to have a Plan B for everything around here, 
but we didn't have a specific one for this situation, so it was 
time to explore the city again. 
 
We headed for the Centro to see what was going on there and it 
was quiet. We were surprised to see so few people there after 
the masses of people assembled the night before and sleeping 
anywhere and everywhere. You could see the residue of the mass 
sleep-in with cardboard stacked up everywhere in the Central 
Plaza and area surrounding the Cathedral. We presumed everyone 
did what they came to do and then went home. It was a logical 
conclusion. We went off to explore the streets of the northwest 
section of town above Independencia, the main street running 
through the heart of town (one way from west to east) and 
passing right by the central plaza and the cathedral.
 
We came upon some interesting sights, some interesting 
neighborhoods and some interesting people. Of course, I had my 
fun with the children that our path crossed. We passed a 
beautiful restaurant (again) at the Hotel Provincial. The menu 
looked great to me and we decided to return there for lunch.
 
We came to a beautiful church and saw something very odd. The 
plaza outside the church had workings making very regular 
structures out of firewood in an orderly pattern. It really 
looked like some sort of fire was going to be set across the 
entire plaza area. It was like a series of dozens of small  
"Burning Man" stacks of wood perhaps five feet tall and three 
feet by three feet. We asked a young man that was sitting on a 
low wall surround the plaza and studying if he spoke English and 
he said no. I then asked him what was going on and he said it 
was an exhibition that was being set up. Hiroko asked him if it 
was going to be ignited and he laughed and said no.
 
We walked away mystified as to what it might be, but we figured 
it out as we passed the entrance to the art school that was on 
the plaza. They were working on a piece of art on a massive 
scale. We walked into the plaza and then into the church. I 
caught a photo of a woman praying at a statue of Jesus with her 
head bowed over and cradled in the hands of the statue of Jesus. 
Almost immediately thereafter the Noon Mass began and that was 
our signal to leave. 
 
We continued to meander through the streets and a small local 
Mercado. Unlike any other Mercado we have seen in this country 
to date, this one had a map painted on the exterior walls, in at 
least two places, of where to find the merchant stall for what 
you needed.  This was without a doubt the most organized Mercado 
we have ever seen anywhere outside the USA. We stopped to buy a 
piece of bread from one of the venders to hold us over to our 
2:00 PM lunchtime. I was having trouble understanding how much 
she was asking me for in payment for the bread. She was saying 
something that was confusing me. It was, "dos y cincuenta." I 
got the dos part, but it was the fifty part that kept throwing 
me off.  When I counted my change it came to me. She was asking 
for two Pesos and fifty centavos. We were not accustomed to 
hearing the centavos part, but now we are acclimated to it. Part 
of learning a language is to become familiar with the sound of 
the words and the speech patterns, which are often way too fast 
for us at this stage of our learning curve.
 
We were making our way back to the Z—calo area (the Z is 
pronounced like an S) and we saw people with banners marching 
down the street towards the Z—calo area. We were walking 
perpendicular to their path and the mass of people went from 
sidewalk to sidewalk. Not entirely sure what was going on, even 
though everything appeared entirely peaceful, I put my camera 
back into my shoulder bag as we neared the marchers. It was a 
sea of people perhaps twenty or so wide and we could not see 
either the beginning or the end of this massive line of people. 
They were mostly quiet and some were holding small signs. Some 
were holding group numbers on sticks in the air so people will 
stay with the group. 
 
The groups seems to be arranged by geographic location, just as 
they had the night before when bedding down for the evening on 
the streets using anything, including cardboard boxes, to lay 
down on to cushion the weight of their bodies pressing against 
the hard concrete. I guess they did not go home after all. As we 
stood on the curb and watched the wave upon wave of young, old, 
men, women and children flow peacefully down the street I was 
becoming somewhat less fearful that something bad might happen. 
Perhaps I subconsciously remembers the peaceful antiwar 
demonstrations in the late 1960s and early 1970s that sometimes 
suddenly and quite unexpectedly erupted into violence due to 
inappropriate behavior by the police.
 
We saw the folks turn onto Independencia and head towards the 
the Z—calo area. We walked parallel to Independencia for one 
block and then turned towards where the action was. I was 
feeling confident, perhaps a bit foolishly, that everything 
would be just fine. I even had my big camera out and ready to 
memorialize the unfolding events. Unlike what we saw more than 
an hour before, the plaza area outside the cathedral was teeming 
with people. There were speeches being made to small groups of 
people sprinkled all around the perimeter of the plaza area. It 
reminded me of photos and videos I have seen of passionate 
oratory being given on soapboxes in London. 
 
Suddenly we began to hear a woman making a speech over a public 
address system. It was coming from the gazebo area in from of 
the Presidential Palace across from the plaza. The sea of people 
drew nearer. We were making our way towards the gazebo when were 
handed a printed flyer. It was on a standard size 8.5 by 11 inch 
sheet of white paper printed on both sides. I folded it up and 
placed it in my pocket for later. As approached the gazebo and I 
heard the words, albeit understanding only a few words from each 
sentence, I heard the passion in the voice and I saw the passion 
in the faces of the people in the plaza. It was invoking an 
upwelling of emotion within me.
 
Hiroko and I were walking into what I perceived as a classic 
exercise of democracy: people peacefully congregating to air 
their grievance with their government. Just in case you are not 
aware of this, it is one of the most fundamental rights written 
into the Constitution of the United States and is an essential 
component of the Bill of Rights (which happens to be the first 
ten articles of the US Constitution). I was drawn to the energy 
coming from the gazebo. Abandoning any thoughts of personal 
safety I made my way through the thick crowd of people towards 
the gazebo with camera in hand. Hiroko was close behind me and 
sticking as close to me as she could, but never more than an 
arms length away. I repeatedly turned around and asked her if 
she was okay and her response was affirmative. 
 
Before I realized it I was on the gazebo and within fifteen feet 
of the speaker in the center of a massive gathering of many 
thousands of people. I stood in awe at the emotion and the 
passion in the faces of the people assembled here today. For me 
this was one of the highlights of our trip to Oaxaca. After 
walking around the lower tier of the gazebo for a few minutes 
and watching the crowd and taking a few photos of them, the 
national anthem began to play and people began singing along 
with the speaker at the microphone without any musical 
accompaniment. Concerned about Hiroko I decided it would be 
prudent if we made our departure. That was not all that easy.
 
Coming down off the gazebo we had difficulties making our way 
through the mass of people as they had drawn very near to the 
center of the energy vortex and there was no spaces to squeeze 
through to exit the plaza area. The people were packed tightly 
together. There was a stocky gentleman, appearing to be local, 
that was pushing his way through the crowd to also make an exit 
from the area. I tucked myself behind him and flowed him 
wherever he went Hiroko had a tight grip on my shirt and was 
close behind. Behind her was a woman that pushing Hiroko in her 
back, as though that would make her exit from the area faster. 
She is probably one of those drivers that sits in gridlock 
traffic and pushes on the horn even though it will likely never 
do anything except perhaps annoy other people with the incessant 
noise. 
 
We finally made it to the street and I turned to Hiroko and 
said, "This is what is missing from America today." I was so 
filled with memories of my politically active days and raw 
emotion that I had trouble getting the words out. I was less 
concerned with what the message being delivered by the people 
was, but rather heartened by the exercise in pure democracy we 
witness this day.  I love my country, but it had turned to shit 
because "we the people" no longer assemble and air out our 
grievances to our elected official the way we used to. We 
brought an unpopular war to an end in our day and few people are 
willing to stand up and publicly say "end the immoral occupation 
of Iraq now." We have gone from delegating power and authority 
to our elected officials (I can no longer refer to them as 
leaders) to abdicating it to them. 
 
Today was another instance of Hiroko and I being in the right 
place at the right time on this trip to experience something 
special. It was time to make our way towards lunch. We decided 
to make a wide circle around the area to avoid that sea of 
people we left behind. We just happened upon a museum of Oaxacan 
textiles that Hiroko very much wanted to visit, but she thought 
I had enough of looking at textiles. She was wrong and the place 
was open surprisingly. We were beginning to think all the better 
museums were only open in the evenings just as was the case with 
the Modern Art and Photography Museums.  
 
Not only was the collection of tapestries and textiles 
magnificent, the building was equally beautiful. I will let my 
photos tell that story. Look for the photo of the saddle and hat 
and you'll see some of the textiles and the building shots. 
 
We made our way to Hotel Provincial and the lunch was great. Our 
waiter was a resident of Malibu for about ten years, but moved 
back to Oaxaca because the job situation got bad in CA.  It is a 
story we have heard more than once. The food was great and we 
savored every bite and cleaned our plates. They were also 
civilized portions using our yardstick. After lunch we were 
making our way back to the apartment with a few needed stops 
along the way for household staples. We walked by a building we 
had passed many times before without ever knowing what was 
inside of it. Today there was an open door and when we looked 
inside we saw a girls basketball game going on. We went in and 
had a seat. I told Hiroko this made the place seem more real to 
me. We did not stay very long. I shot a few photos including one 
of a girl with huge almond shaped eyes in her father's arms. 
Both the father and the girl enjoyed seeing the photo when I 
showed it to them. The father thanked me for taking the photo 
and we were off again.
 
Back at the apartment I immediately went to work on the weekly 
newsletter and Hiroko did whatever. The time seems to fly by 
much too quickly here. Before we knew it we were approaching the 
dinner hour and Hiroko made a salad to go with the last of the 
soup I had made earlier in the week. We ate at a leisurely pace 
and then got dressed to go out to a local Jazz Bar. It was very 
close to the apartment and a place that we actually peeked into 
days earlier not realizing it was the jazz joint we were headed 
to. It is a very cool looking place that Hiroko discovered in 
the online English language Oaxacan newspaper she has been using 
as a resource for things to do as well as places to go and eat. 
 
It wasn't long before my camera was out of my shoulder bag and I 
was snapping some photos. Our waiter came over and asked us some 
things that we did not understand. It wasn't long before 
Armando, the owner, came to the rescue with his perfect English. 
We ordered a coffee with Kahlua for Hiroko. Armando told me they 
were having a two-for-one offer on Mescal. He said they had the 
regular one and the one with the worm in the bottle. I opted for 
the wormy one. We asked if they had any deserts and he started 
to mention what they had and I asked if there was anything with 
chocolate. He said nothing on the menu, but he could have his 
people whip up a crepe. We passed on the crape and just drank 
for the moment.
 
We got there at about 9:00 PM and were expecting to hear some 
live jazz. Hiroko asked where the live music was and I said 
perhaps it was too early. Many of the local people work until 
8:00 PM because of their 1:00 to 4:00 PM siesta. I find it an 
attractive lifestyle. I was into my fourth jigger of Mescal when 
the band arrived and began setting up. We also ordered the 
crepes and they were made tableside in with great flair and 
panache. It was a show unto itself. Oh, the crepes were awesome 
and they were served with a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Yummy!
 
The music was good and Hiroko was tired so we made an early 
exit. When the check came I was beyond surprised at how small it 
was. It was only 230-Pesos. I gave the waiter my credit card and 
there was a service charge of 10% added onto the credit card 
bill. It said it was for a propina (tip).  I told the waiter 
that twenty-three Pesos was insufficient for his propina and I 
plopped another 25-Pesos into the folder with the receipt. You 
know I was not in full mental faculty with four jiggers of booze 
in me, because we made our way to the exit before I got my 
credit card back. The waiter caught up to us before we hit the 
door.
 
As we made our way back to the apartment the streets were eerily 
empty with few if any cars to be seen anywhere except on the 
main street of Republica, which we had to cross. I took what I 
thought at the time was some interesting night shots. We will 
see how they look when I download them from the camera being 
sober. Stay tuned.


Thu. 25 Sept. 2008, Day 24 away from home, day 22 in country:

I have no idea what in the world the herbs or plants are that 
are in the tea for insomniacs that I had before retiring last 
night, but boy does it work. First thing this morning Hiroko 
asked me how it worked and I told her it was the best night's 
sleep I have had since we got here. Her response was, "Okay, 
I'll try it tonight." She had a rough night while I slept like a 
baby. She told me she was up from 1:00 AM to 5:00 AM.
 
As usual I was up somewhere between 5:30 and 6:00. Being up 
early gives me the luxury of working on my "stuff" at a 
leisurely pace. I can read the overnight financials from Europe 
and Asia, catch up on playing with my photos and of course 
writing my blog. I am not entirely sure what is driving this 
motivation to blog every day, but why question it? I am going 
with it and I know of at least one person that is soaking up 
every word of it.
 
It is another rainy day. Unlike Hiroko, I do not mind the rain 
here one bit. Hiroko just told me if we do not have a hot tub 
here we must have a fireplace for the winter. The reason I do 
not mind the rain is that it is not inhibiting like it is at 
home. It does not seem to matter if it is rain or shine: it is 
always T-shirt weather here. I suppose it will get hot in the 
dry season, but there are always showers. 
 
Our apartment has no heat and no air conditioning and we are 
told that on the warmest days it is not that hot if you are not 
out in the open and in the sun. We are not all that far from the 
equator, so the sun's rays are much more perpendicular to the 
land and therefore more intense. We are also at roughly 5,000 
feet elevation, making the atmosphere thinner and the UV 
radiation more intense. I have concerns about UV as my mother 
has a few bouts with skin cancer, although it was benign and did 
not take her down. However, I do not always remember to cover up 
with a hat or put on sunscreen.
 
Today was the latest that we left the apartment in the morning. 
Hiroko was doing her "thing" and I was doing mine. We seem to be 
settling in to what can be described as a normal lifestyle or 
living pattern similar to what we have at home. This is 
encouraging to me. It is reinforcing my belief that our 
transitioning to living here will be a piece of cake!
 
While Hiroko was doing her yoga this morning, I was busy with 
stuff and also took our laundry to the lady down the street. She 
has been beyond pleasant and friendly from the get-go so that we 
feel a sense of obligation to support her business. Did I ever 
mention she has three cute and small poodles? If you know me you 
know how I love dogs (even though we have two cats at home) and 
so the laundry lady and I have another bond that makes things 
even friendlier. At 10-pesos per kilo for wash, dry and fold 
(less than a dollar per kilo or less than fifty cents per pound, 
I even took my high-tech wash-and-wear stuff to her. 
 
Unlike other days where we do our tourista stuff and then go 
shopping, this morning we went to our local Mercado and got what 
was needed in the way of provisions, brought the stuff back to 
our apartment and then made ready for the day's outing. Our 
destination was the Museum of Modern Art, which was supposed to 
be reopened today after they did some stuff to it. We walked by 
the place yesterday and it did not look as though it would be 
ready. Considering the time of day that we were out on the 
streets and my need for an early dinner because of going to a 
meditation group at 8:00 PM, we opted for lunch first, then the 
museum.  
 
The restaurant we were destined for was on Calle de Virgil 
Garcia. It was the place we went to on Saturday and interpreted 
a sign on the closed and locked door that they were closed 
permanently. Obviously, that was not the case as yesterday we 
walked by there and it was open. The gentleman that tried to 
usher us in handed us a small flyer regarding their hours and it 
said they were open daily. We were confused, but glad we would 
eat there eventually, which was today.
 
You can tell when a restaurant is geared towards tourists and 
when they are geared to locals by the linguistic skills of the 
wait staff. Our waiter could not speak a word of English, but we 
managed to order a lunch with traditional Oaxacan soup, chicken 
mole with rice and something made of strawberries for dessert. 
After lunch we headed for the Museum of Modern Art. We were told 
on Tuesday that it would be open today after some work being 
done. NOT!
 
We decided to walk to the large Mercado and ran into a sea of 
people everywhere in the Z—calo area. At the time I thought it 
was a political demonstration. It was raining and there were 
makeshift roofs of tarpaulins everywhere. The ropes holding 
everything together made it difficult to walk upright let alone 
with an open umbrella. We made it through the crowds and got to 
the Mercado, but we were less than thrilled at being there. I 
bought some beans that looked like something related to lima 
beans for the soup I was going to be making tomorrow. I hope 
these beans add some thickness to the soup, as that is my 
intent. 
 
We walked towards the place I was going to visit this evening to 
sit in on a meditation session with some Tibetan Buddhists. We 
figured it would make sense if I found it in the daylight so I 
would not be wandering the streets at night searching for it. We 
found it and then found some coffee and truffles at the Cafˇ 
Royal. For what was supposed to be a French Cafˇ, the coffee was 
too weak according to Hiroko. Mine was spiked with a healthy 
shot of Mescal, so I could not tell if there was even coffee in 
my cup.
 
As we were finishing up Hiroko lamented that she had enough rain 
for one day and wanted to head home to our apartment, which we 
did. We got back, I worked on some photos, some blogging and got 
our laundry back form the nice lady down the street. Hiroko made 
some dish that was a throwback to her childhood that she never 
made before (for me anyway). It was stir fried rice with 
vegetables and topped with a fried egg and some ketchup. It was 
very tasty and I ate whatever she didn't.
 
I was off to the meditation session walking in the rain. I got 
there and there was a nice turnout. The problem from my 
perspective was the leader of the group talked too much and 
every time she lead people into quiet meditation she would start 
to talk within two minutes and that was breaking my quiet 
meditation. I may not go back next week. Then again, you never 
know. When the session was over, I decided to head to the Z—calo 
area to see if all those demonstrators were gone. They were not 
only not gone, they were joined by countless others. The entire 
section of town became a tent city. 
 
My curiosity got the better of me and I went into one of the 
groceries where we initially were buying wine until we found the 
modern market with the great selection of wines. The cashier 
recognized me and I asked her if she spoke English. She said a 
little, so I asked her in Spanish why all the people were 
assembled in the Centro area and why they were here all day. She 
told me that the country was getting a new president tomorrow 
(if I understood her accurately). The people were there in 
solidarity to welcome their new leader. 
 
The throngs of people gathered had created a world-class traffic 
gridlock all day long in town and I am glad we chose to not use 
the car today. I suspect I will not be driving tomorrow either, 
as it will likely be even worse. I snapped some photos of the 
tent city and made my way back to the apartment before Hiroko 
worried herself to death that something might have happened to 
me. She made some of that not-to-pleasant-tasting tea for both 
of us and we called it a night.


Wed. 24 Sept. 2008, Day 23 away from home, day 21 in country:

We left the apartment late this morning after getting off to a 
lazy start.  Uncertainties about what the weather might be on 
any given day requires us to maintain an element of flexibility 
in planning our day's activities. September in Oaxaca is the 
second rainiest month of the rainy season, which runs from May 
to September. 
 
We try to follow the weather forecasting for the area online and 
the last several days have brought rain and the forecasts from 
the weather services have been giving a 70% to 80% probability 
of rain the past few days. Giving a forecast for rain here in 
September is almost like forecasting that the sun will shine in 
the Mojave Dessert in July. What is amusing is the long-range 
forecast that shows a potential for rain every day through 
September 30th and then no rain beginning October 1. 
 
Fortunately, the rain had not inhibited our activities one bit. 
We might avoid trekking through ruins on rainy days, but that is 
it. When it is raining and we are in town, we still walk all 
over the place leaving the car parked in front of the apartment. 
We have two of those compact fold-up umbrellas (that take up 
almost no space) with us and we carry at least one at all times.
 
In spite of an 80% chance of rain, the forecast was for a 90% 
chance of rain on Thursday and so we rolled the dice and went in 
search of some ruins that Hiroko forewarned me would be 
difficult to find. She was right. This became an adventure 
trying to find the place. We were following the instructions of 
the AAA guidebook for Mexico. It is usually reliable, but not 
this time. 
 
We followed the instructions to Villa de Etla, where we had our 
goat lunch the week before, and the directions took us onto a 
street that was closed and we had to try to navigate around it. 
Easier said than done in a town where Armando (Popito) was 
thrown a curve the week before and admitted he only knew one way 
to get to the Mercado and it was blocked. If a local did not 
know his way around this small village, what chance did we have?
 
We found ourselves going down a bumpy dirt road and crossing 
through some treacherous terrain that included flooded out 
railroad tracks and we had a sense we were not going to get to 
our destination. We stopped to ask a gentleman that was painting 
the exterior of a building how to get to the village we were 
looking for. He gave me the directions and we headed out that 
way. It took us to the street that we came into the Mercado last 
week only there was a hitch this time around: The road was 
blocked by a truck.
 
I have nothing to support my impressions of what I saw, but it 
looked as though the truck was placed in the roadway 
deliberately to block traffic. It was a large flatbed truck that 
was almost perfectly perpendicular to the roadway and went from 
sidewalk to sidewalk leaving perhaps a foot to eighteen inches 
at either end of the vehicle so that pedestrians could squeeze 
through without carrying anything. All the tires on the truck 
were completely flattened. My conclusion was an easy one to 
draw. 
 
The entire Oaxaca area was under siege by protesters for two 
years up the end of last year (I think) as the people rose up 
against the State Governor, whose seat of power was in the City 
of Oaxaca. We know that it hurt the tourist industry badly as 
people stayed away for fear of being caught up in the street 
violence, as anarchy seems to be in the air. The US State 
Department had issued warnings against coming to this area back 
then (it is safe now). Our friend Aynes, a member of my Berkeley 
meditation group, postponed her moving here until after the 
violence had subsided. That was how we knew it was safe to come 
here.
 
After we made a u-turn to find a way around the blockage we came 
upon the entrance to the same Mercado where we had the goat 
lunch last week with Lili, Chris and Popito. I asked Hiroko if 
she wanted to stop and have lunch as it was approaching noon. 
She said I could go have a goat lunch if I wanted to and she 
would sit with me and just watch me. I opted against the goat 
lunch primarily because it was too early. We have been eating on 
Mexican time as opposed to US mealtimes. 
 
We finally managed to navigate out of Etla and were driving in 
the direction of Oaxaca when we happened to see a sign on our 
side of the road pointing to our destination. We were certain 
that we would not find the place, but I was not prepared to give 
up when the sign appeared. We turned into the small road leading 
to the Village of Guadalupe where the ruins were located. We 
came upon a small ruins site and turned into it and saw nothing 
to suggest we were at the oldest site in the region that was 
inhabited 3,500 B.C and abandoned 400 B.C. 
 
We continued on into the town proper to see if there was more 
than what we had just seen. There wasn't. As we drove through 
town with the exception of the gas powered vehicles (there were 
horse drawn carts on the road, too) there was little to suggest 
civilization had intruded on this small village save one sign. 
That sign was a directional sign pointing towards the local 
chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous. 
 
We went back to what we first saw and drove towards what was 
supposed to be the museum, but it was shut tight. We continued 
down the road, but when it ended in the river, we knew that was 
a dead end for sure. We got out of the car in front of what was 
supposed to be a museum thinking there might be another way in, 
but there wasn't. We went back to the small partially excavated 
site (perhaps fifty feet wide) and got out to walk around it 
thinking maybe there would be something more after we scaled up 
the roughly twenty foot summit of the mound. NOT! 
 
It was time to go back to Oaxaca. Not wanting to go through 
Centro, as we had every other time we returned to Oaxaca from 
this direction (headed south from the free road from Mexico 
City) we tried to retrace our northern bypass route that we used 
leaving town in the morning. We got lucky in bypassing the heavy 
traffic that seems to always be in Centro. Everything was fine 
until we hit gridlock on Route 190, which is also the Pan 
American Highway that goes all the way down to the southern tip 
of South America in Pategonia. We will avoid the gridlock we 
fond at the main bus terminal for the city from now on.
 
We got back to the apartment, parked the car, attended to some 
personal needs and were off for another walk to parts of the 
neighborhood we had not seen before. We were specifically 
looking for a purportedly good fish restaurant near our 
neighborhood close to Mercado and the shop that sells fish right 
next door to it. We found it and the fish looked good. I'll be 
cooking some of it soon. We were then headed towards the large 
Mercado south of the plaza when we came upon a shop with phone 
booths. I have been unable to call our friend Anyez using Skype 
due to a country code issue, so I need a pay phone. All the pay 
phones on the streets require some form of either a credit card 
or a prepaid card. There are payphone anywhere that accept coins 
and I did not realize that until after I accumulated a pocket 
full of them. 
 
So, I needed and found one of those phone booth shops that we 
had noticed in the Mercado de Abastos, but never noticed them on 
the street until now. We called Anyes and arranged to meet for 
lunch on Saturday. Hiroko and I are looking forward to seeing 
her "house in a field" as she had previously described it to us. 
It turned out that she lives very close to Villa de Etla where 
we had been earlier in the day. I am looking forward to seeing 
my mediation buddy.
 
We took a different route to the main Mercado this afternoon 
looking to see the streets and places we have not been to yet. 
We danced through the raindrops that came and went 
intermittently and made it to the Mercado finding fish vendors 
that we had not seen before. Clearly we have not seen everything 
there is to see at this market in spite of coming here at least 
seven times in the past nine days. Yes, it is a very large 
market and not at all organized as one might expect. 
 
We went to the smaller market down the block with the abundance 
of eateries. This is where they grilled the thinly sliced pieces 
of beef. Some of those slices were the size of two regular sized 
place mats placed end to end. They sell it by the kilo and then 
grill it for you right there. In the photo section there will 
appear a picture of a smoke filled corridor of this particular 
market and that is what they are doing there. Some of those meat 
grillers have tables, but that was not our destination today for 
lunch.
 
We found the place I wanted to eat at. The menu was interesting 
and I zeroed in on a tamal and a dish of grilled meat with some 
very interesting tomato rice and salad. I am brave enough to try 
street food or something very close to it in these markets, but 
I am not trusting enough or reckless enough to eat fresh salad 
here. I'll save that for the apartment. Hiroko sampled it all 
and ate more than I thought she would. We finished our lunch and 
made our way to an ice cream parlor down the street for dessert. 
We have been yearning for some ice cream for days.
 
We sat and made the cappuccino ice cream disappear post haste 
and made our way back to our favorite bakery where the now 
smiling boss greeted us as we entered and of course I asked her 
how she was this day and she said very well thank you and with a 
great big grin. What a change from the first few times we were 
in there and she wore her sour-puss. 
 
We were making our way to the north end of town in search of the 
old aqueduct, a cinema arts club and a particular textile stores 
purported to have "museum quality" textiles. We did not find the 
textiles store, but did find everything else we were looking for 
and more. We found a very nice collection of artisan crafts at 
very reasonable prices. We found the cine arts club, but it was 
closed and would reopen at 6:00 PM. We will have to come back 
another time. As we made our way back to the apartment, we could 
not help but notice just how nice and interesting this 
neighborhood was. It was very close to our apartment without our 
realizing it. 
 
We got back to the apartment in time for our 5:00 PM imbibing of 
wine and gin. We did stuff to fill the time until 8:0 PM when we 
planned to go to dinner at the fish restaurant Marco Polo. When 
the time came to go, it was raining and we were wearing nice 
clothes for our dinner outing. Since Marco Polo was close to 
where we park for the night, we decided to drive to the 
restaurant, eat and then return the car with less rain falling 
on our evening "glad rags." We were in for another surprise.
 
For whatever reason the restaurant was closed this evening. The 
gentleman that was at the door told us why, but we did not 
understanding what he was saying to us. We have a long way to go 
to be fluent in Spanish. I said to Hiroko we may want to 
consider having a Plan B for just about everything. After 
thinking on where to eat, we drove around the park and saw a 
parking space open up right across from the 100% natural food 
restaurant and we were in. A day or two before we had decided to 
not eat there because it was almost always empty, but being 
flexible we went in and saw two large groups of diners. I felt a 
bit better.
 
The menu was too extensive and everything looked great. We had 
an interesting local soup, a nice salad and an enchilada. The 
meal was very good, the atmosphere was great and the widow table 
overlooking the park completed a very nice meal with great 
ambiance. We made it back to the parking lot, left the car and 
made our way back to the apartment taking a different route than 
usual because Hiroko's heels and wet cobblestones do not make 
for a good combination on a rainy night. 
 
Back at the apartment Hiroko made some tea for us. She made her 
usual stuff that we brought from home and she made me a cup of 
the tea we bought at the modern large supermarket for insomniacs 
and very nervous people according to the package's writing. It 
had a medicinal smell and taste and I hoped it would help me 
sleep better because that noisy fridge still wakes me at times 
during the night.  Stay tuned.


Tue. 23 Sept. 2008, Day 22 away from home, day 20 in country:

It was a night of unrelenting rain pounding on the roof and 
streets. It was enough to disturb even the deepest of sleepers. 
It had me up and down all night long, but I somehow managed to 
get enough rest for the new day.
 
We had planned to go to Mitla this day, the sight of some 
extensive ruins about 45 Km east of Oaxaca. The rain had us 
considering another day of Plan B, but Mother Nature cooperated, 
the clouds broke and the sun came out. We were doing our road 
thing again. 
 
Getting to Mitla meant traveling the same route we went on two 
days ago, only further to the east. It was an uneventful trip 
until we approached Mitla and hit an unmarked Tope on the road 
at about 40 Mph to 45 Mph. To say it was more than a bit 
unnerving would be about right. We left no pieces of our car on 
the road after hitting the first 'Tope' (speed bump) at full 
speed and the second unmarked one at about two-thirds of the 
speed we hit the first one. Thereafter, it was slow and go. My 
teeth were rattled.
 
"The powers that be" cleverly forced visitors to the Mitla ruins 
to navigate through the heart of the Town of Mitla and run the 
gantlet of merchants, shops and vendors. The circuitous route 
took you right up to the heart of the vendors of everything just 
outside the entrance to the archeological site. 
 
There was a unique and special character to this place called 
Mitla. It was unlike any other Mesoamerican pre-Columbian site 
we had been to in the past and we have been to them in dozens of 
cities across several countries over the past decade. There were 
these unique geometric patterns as part of the ornamentation of 
the walks of this site. The patterns were not superficial, but 
seemed to be part of the structure of the walls themselves. 
 
Another beautiful and unique feature of the walls the separated 
the rooms of the orderly compartmentalized buildings was that 
there were graphics depicting life here way back when on the 
fa¨ade of the interior walls. Hiroko got really upset at the 
senseless destruction of the graphics at the hands of graffiti 
mongers carving their initials into these irreplaceable 
treasures. I shared her anger, but I did not become openly angry 
and vocal about it. 
 
Admittedly we expected to see a more refined construction and 
sophistication to this late pre-Columbian site, but were not 
expecting what we saw. The geometric patters were an integral 
part of everything here. We crawled down into a few tombs and 
they were also on the interior of the cool, dim, damp and musty 
burial places from a time and a culture long gone. 
 
In reading about the history of the site I was a bit saddened to 
read that the site was deliberately destroyed and deconstructed 
by the Spaniards. Their objective was twofold. First they wanted 
to obliterate the ancient religions and traditions of the area 
and the focal point of the indigenous peoples for this site. 
Secondly, they wanted to use the materials of the structures to 
build the large church constructed right on the site of the 
original old structures. It is sad the way the Spaniards, and 
especially Guzman, treaded the indigenous peoples and what they 
did to their culture. We were no better with our indigenous 
peoples up north, but that does not make it any more right, just 
because I live up north.
 
As special as the place was, we were forewarned that the place 
is usually crawling with "hawkers" of stuff. In retrospect, it 
was a good thing we went on a Tuesday and not on Sunday. Our 
landlord William told us the archeological sites in the area 
were free to residents on Sunday and that is when families go to 
them.  After our experience with an uncontrolled (by her 
parents) bratty girl that ran free annoying many people in the 
museum at Monte Alb‡n, we wanted to avoid that to happen again.  
I have yet to see any of the Indian children misbehave or make a 
nuisance of themselves to others. The same cannot be said for 
the some of the children of the more affluent families. It must 
be a universal problem. 
 
After we finished our visit to Mitla, we went back to the car 
and had a light snack of stuff we brought along with us, as 
there we saw no restaurants in this small town that appealed to 
us. After our causal munching of fruit, nuts, bread and water we 
were on our way to another nearby site. Yagul was not that far 
off the beaten path, but was purported to have the second 
largest ball court in Mesoamerica. 
 
When we entered the parking lot of this site, we found that we 
were the only car there. We love it when we have an ancient site 
to ourselves undisturbed by other people or their children. 
After climbing up to the higher plateaus of the site, it was 
easy to see the appeal for building on this particular place. 
Looking to the south, the place had incredible sweeping views of 
the valley with a one hundred eighty degree panoramic view 
ranging for miles sweeping from east to west. It was simply 
gorgeous. 
 
As we found with other infrequently visited sites, there were 
pieces of ancient chards everywhere. I happened upon a piece 
that caught my eye and in a high traffic area that was likely 
stepped on tens of thousands of times without notice. When 
looking at it, I saw four parallel lines carved into the clay 
object before it was fired. It was a black piece, which seems to 
be typical for this area as there were countless pieces of black 
chards everywhere, but no other pieces I saw had anything on 
them.
 
Climbing to the highest points of the site, where there were 
natural rock features defining the upper boundary, we saw what 
looked like grinding holes worn into the huge rocks with a steep 
drop off just feet beyond the holes. It reminded us of grinding 
holes we had seen at an old site of a Miwok or Pomo tribe in the 
Sierra Mountains of CA just outside the town of Volcano. We 
walked this site for about an hour and then it was time to 
return to town.
 
On our way to town we stopped off at the modern market again and 
got some teas and other minor basic provisions. We looked at, 
but did not like the produce section of this market compared to 
the Mercado. We decided to venture out in the rain and go to the 
main Mercado our local area and get the produce there. It was a 
good choice and it did not rain while we were walking the route. 
We got back to the apartment just in time for our 5:00 PM 
afternoon libation. We were in for the night. 
 
Surprisingly we have not done any outside-the-apartment thing in 
the way of evening entertainment (except our first night here 
for the Independence Day Party), but this will not last much 
longer. We read about a jazz club in the area with live 
entertainment on Friday and Saturday evenings. We also found a 
Buddhist meditation group that sits on Thursday evenings that I 
am planning on going to. ĮAdios mi amigos!


Mon. 22 Sept. 2008, Day 21 away from home, day 19 in country:

Monday we declared an "activity light" day after the frenetic 
pace we have been keeping up. Today marks three weeks of being 
on the road and away from home in Novato. We are comfortable and 
fully acclimated to life and living here. Hiroko walked with me 
to get the car for the first time today.
 
First thing on the agenda this morning was to find a place where 
I could buy my brand of gin; Bombay Safire. We also need a place 
to find a better selection of wines. The other day we passed 
what looked like a typical shopping center in the states so we 
decided to give it a try this morning. It was worth the drive to 
the outskirts of town.
 
If you picture a very large grocery store, perhaps the size of a 
typical Costco warehouse store you get the scope of how large 
this everything store is. If you want strawberries from CA, a 
new mattress or television set, sportswear or sporting goods 
some good wine or branded alcohol from just about anywhere in 
the world, this is the place to come. We even found ground black 
pepper here. We had been looking for a week without finding it 
anywhere. Hiroko even found some yogurt she was looking for.
 
We walked the aisles to become acquainted with what they sold 
and how they organized their stuff. We marveled at the local 
specialties as well as all the stuff we are familiar with at 
home. Unlike the local and typical "mercados" around town and 
the country, this is a modern, clean, well-lit and completely 
organized shopping experience. This store was meant for the 
upscale residents of the area. Also within the complex of the 
stores there is a huge multi-screen cinema theater, a high-end 
department store and a sprinkling of specialty shops. It was a 
great place to shop, but it is not going to replace our 
frequenting the merchants at the mercados. I would hate to see 
this place lose all its character like many cities in the USA, 
replaced by identical looking shopping centers with identical 
looking stores no matter what city you find yourself in.
 
We took our purchases and made our way back to the apartment 
making a wrong turn only once and backtracking wasn't too bad. 
We unloaded our stuff, left the car on the street and we were 
off to the museum.
 
We were headed towards the Museum of Modern Art when we heard 
more fireworks going off. This is something that happens too 
often for our liking. Suddenly we see a parade coming right at 
us. We did not know that September 22nd is the anniversary of 
the founding of Oaxaca and therefore a parade was in order. 
There were ten-foot tall mannequins, a band, dancing ladies and 
costumed people making it a very novel and colorful small 
parade. 
 
At the end of the parade were some partying folks and one of 
them carrying a plastic water bottle (labeled with one of the 
local distilled water companies) in one hand a plastic shot 
glass in the other. He held out the shot glass to me and I asked 
him if the clear liquid in the bottle was Mescal. He said yes 
and I said to myself, "What the hell." I threw back a shot to 
the amusement of some locals on the sidewalk watching the 
festivities. It is manifestly obvious to everyone here that I am 
a "gringo." I returned the cup and thanked the gentlemen and 
then exhaled a large breath that would have exploded had there 
been an ignition source nearby.
 
We wanted to visit the Museum of Modern Art and made our way 
towards it. It was just down the street from where we crossed 
paths with the parade. I could not help but notice the speed at 
which the shot hit bottom then hit my head. I guess that is what 
happens when you do high-octane shots at 11:30 AM. In case you 
are wondering I am doing less imbibing of booze here than I do 
at home for a variety of reasons including personal safety. 
However, on top on my list of why I am drinking less is I have 
been nursing my supply of Safire because I do not have enough of 
it to last until I get home. 
 
When we got to the museum, we discovered it was closed and would 
not reopen until Thursday. It was time again for a Plan B.
There is a museum here that specializes in pre-Columbian art 
only, and it was very close to where we were, just blocks off 
the central plaza. We made it there, paid our entry fee and 
entered into what was one of the best collections of pre-
Columbian art we have ever seen. The collection was extensive 
from the entire region and was much more than we expected. We 
definitely got our moneys worth here.
 
After we left the museum, we were sort of meandering our way 
towards the park near our apartment. There was a natural food 
restaurant we were interested in trying. Along the way we 
stopped to look at the menu of every restaurant that had them 
displayed on the sidewalk. We stopped at one, I looked at the 
menu and turned to Hiroko and said I'd like to eat here. She 
recognized the name and looking into her little red notebook. It 
is her bible of things to see and places to eat in this area. 
The restaurant I chose happened to be on her list of the top 
restaurants in this town, Restaurante Catedral. We entered.
 
We were greeted by a very pleasant waiter that showed us to our 
table in the back of the restaurant next to the water fountain. 
This softly lit room, thanks to a canopy overhead keeping out 
the elements (it was raining this morning), and it was 
delightful. The waiter asked if we would like something to drink 
and by our lack of an immediate response he said, "I speak 
English" in perfect English. We continued to speak Spanish, as 
that is part of our quest here. She ordered a glass of vino 
tinto and I had a bottle of Negra Modelo, a good dark beer.
 
The menu was awesome and we ordered. A short while later we 
asked the waiter, Rafael as we found out later, where he learned 
to speak English so well. He said CA. I asked where and he said 
the Bay Area. I asked where again and he said Redwood City. I 
told him we were from Novato.  I asked what he was doing in 
Oaxaca and he said he wanted to find his roots. His wife owns a 
restaurant in Redwood City and his brother owns a restaurant in 
the Mission District of San Francisco. He was planning to go 
back to the Bay Area next year and we were planning to move down 
here next year. Small world and strange coincidences seem to 
happen. Everything about our lunch, including the conversations 
with Rafael, the food and the service was as good as it gets.
 
After lunch we slowly made our way back towards the apartment 
trying to walk off another bout with overeating. It is hard to 
stop eating, although neither of us fully finished our meals. We 
are showing some restraint, but need to improve that aspect of 
our stay here. We walked around the park and some local streets 
including some very modern and upscale home furnishing stores. 
Yes, this is an upscale community. While walking, we noticed a 
rainbow off in the distance. As we walked, the rainbow was 
getting closer and I thought we should head back to the 
apartment. It had already started to drizzle, but the downpour 
held off until we got back to the apartment. 
 
Back at the apartment I began to work on the photos. The 
software application I was using had a compatibility issue with 
iPhoto (the Mac native software I use to organize the photos for 
the website) and I cannot, or will not, update until I get home, 
so I need to find a work-around. I did and I was back in 
business and uploaded the stuff.
 
Considering we had an excessively large lunch it was soup (my 
home made varietal) and salad (a la Suzuki) and we were toast. 
After dinner we went for a walk to try to burn off what remained 
of lunch and tried to find an ice cream parlor in this 
neighborhood. Hiroko has been craving ice cream lately. I could 
sense that when she gazed at the Hagen Daz in the frozen food 
section of the market yesterday.
 
We walked and walked and there was no ice cream vendor to be 
found. We passed some convenience stores that had the packaged 
junk we were familiar with at home and that is off the menu here 
and at home. We made our way back to the apartment and it was 
another great day and an early evening.


Sun. 21 Sept. 2008, Day 20 away from home, day 18 in country:

This morning I was up earlier than I would have preferred, but 
what the hell. On this trip the key to success is flexibility. I 
got up, cleared away the dishes form the dish drain from the 
night before, washed the stuff that was in the sink soaking to 
get the cooked on stuff looser and then made my usual beverage 
of hot water with the juice of half a lime. 
 
Of course, one of the first things I did after that was to fire 
up the computer and get into my stuff. I began to do a more 
organized way of presenting my photos of this trip. I wanted to 
get them into some logical or time sequence  order, so people 
could follow the words and the photos to enhance the vicarious 
experience of those people following our adventure, like Simi. 
This is a project that will consume many hours, but time is on 
my side as Mick Jagger and the Stones aptly sang about. 
 
I remembered to set up the coffee pot for Hiroko's morning brew 
and the first photo project I needed to handle was to make ready 
and send some photos to Chris and Lili, who were leaving here to 
go back home and to their lives in Washington DC. While I was 
working on their photos about 6:30 AM, I could here the wheels 
of their suitcases clacking across the terra cotta tiles leading 
to the exterior entry of the apartments. I was dressed and 
presentable because I knew they were leaving early and I wanted 
the opportunity to wish them well and safe travels. 
 
I opened the door to our apartment and there was Armando (a.k.a. 
Popito) and I was pleased to see him. He is such a pleasant and 
delightful gentleman. I am looking forward to the day we can 
have great conversations together in Spanish. I trust that will 
not be too far off in the future as I have renewed my commitment 
to myself to learn the language as rapidly as I possible can. I 
greeted Armando "Via con dios, mi amigo" and wished Chris and 
Lili safe travels and told them I looked forward to our paths 
crossing again. 
 
Hiroko came out of the bedroom and I hit the on switch and began 
the brewing of the coffee for her. This morning was a non-
cooking breakfast by choice and preference. I was eating red 
grapes (with seeds, someone should introduce the Red Flame 
varietals here) when Hiroko came out of the bedroom. She 
carefully and skillfully dissected a juicy pineapple we purchase 
the day before and a cheese Danish from our favorite local 
bakery rounded out my breakfast. Hiroko's breakfast was 
similarly basic. 
 
We had some plans laid out for the day, but that did not last 
very long. We were off to a slow start today by design. I was 
getting worn out from the frenetic pace of going, seeing and 
doing every day since we hit town. I know I am seriously vain 
and take pride in the fact that I do not feel like or act like 
(from my perceptions at least) the average sixty-two year old 
baby boomer. We were planning on going to Mitla, the second 
largest pre-Colombian site in the region. That plan did not last 
too long. 
 
While Hiroko and I were into our computers we spied on William, 
our landlord, outside sweeping. I opened the door and greeted 
him a good morning. I told him I had the keys to the unit 
occupied by Chris and Lili. When they left for the airport, 
Chris asked me if I would return their keys to him, which I 
agreed to. It wasn't too long before we began to ask William a 
few questions. It wasn't long before our plan to go to Mital 
today was scrapped. We tend to get irritated with bad behavior 
of children and doubly so when their parents are there and do or 
say nothing. William told us that on Sunday there was no entry 
fee for Mitla and that families usually went on that day. I 
think you get my drift here. It was time for Plan B.
 
After talking with William we went to the local public market in 
Bario Jalatlaco, where our apartment is located. It was the 
first public market we saw when we arrived in Oaxaca and set out 
on foot to explore. Our first visit saw most of the merchant 
stalls closed, as it was late afternoon on a Monday. Today the 
place was a bustling beehive of activity.  There were merchants 
everywhere. The ones that did not get there early enough to get 
a 'prime' spot to set up shop on the sidewalk were blocking our 
ability to walk, so we had to detour into the traffic lanes on 
the street to make our way around them. 
 
Sunday is "THE DAY" for merchants in this part of the world. 
People come out of the woodwork with their produce and wares and 
the locals come out in droves to buy stuff. As we hit the main 
street, Avenida Republica, there was a steady flow of local 
people waling away from the Mercado with hands full of plastic 
bags filled with stuff. We even passed the delightful lady that 
does our laundry. We exchanged pleasantries as we passed each 
other walking down the street. We mentioned to each other how 
nice it was to be recognized and acknowledged by the locals. We 
feel as though we are now members of this small community of 
Bario Jalatlaco after only one week. Even the usually sour-
pussed boss of our favorite local bakery now smiles and 
exchanges pleasantries with us when we walk in or walk out and 
give her dinero (money). To us that is a special feeling of 
belonging here, even though we are still "gringos."
 
We did not need much as our noisy fridge is now brimming with 
fresh produce and other stuff, including the remainder of the 
pot of soup I made the night before. One great thing about 
making a pot of soup is that it is around for a few days. We 
managed to buy some potatoes, broccoli and zucchini and made 
notice of who had what and where they were for future reference 
for our return to our local public market. We walked back to the 
apartment and made ready for our drive eastward towards Mitla 
knowing we would not go all the way there. There was other stuff 
along the way we wanted to see. First stop was at the ruins of 
Dainz�.
 
We thought the turnoff on the atopista (highway) for Dainzu was 
at the 20 Km marker, so when we did not see it after passing the 
20 Km marker, we turned into the PeMex station and Hiroko got 
out to ask the attendant "Como llego a..." (how do I get to) and 
he told her go up the road a bit further and you'd see a sign. 
We made our way down the road slowly, which meant driving on the 
shoulder of this road so the maniacs in a hurry could pass you 
even though there was only one traffic lane in each direction. 
We found the turn and took it and soon found us going down a 
dirt road for about a quarter mile. We had to drive through what 
looked like a portion of the road was washed away, when it fact 
it was likely a drainage ditch. We arrived at what looked like 
the entrance to the place. There was no signage other than an 
information sign talking about the site and there was no one to 
be seen anywhere. We had the site to ourselves. 
 
As we were aimlessly strolling through the ruins trying to get a 
sense and feel of the size and scope of the place when some 
woman appears out of nowhere. She is asking for 29-Pesos each 
for entry to the site. We decided that the money likely went 
directly into her pocket. A short time later that was 
reconfirmed (at least in my mind) when I happened to notice a 
brand new full sized SUV parked in a protected carport next to 
what might be her residence there. The caretaker was doing okay 
for a place without visitors. 
 
One of the first things I noticed while walking and looking down 
was that there were ceramic pottery chards everywhere. I began 
to pickup a few and I strolled through the area taking pictures 
and 'feeling' the place and what it must have been like being 
here in antiquity. We made our way around the complex for 
perhaps forty minutes being seriously pestered by mosquitoes and 
other small flying insects. I was also bitten on the ankle by 
one of the giant red ants that were everywhere. They are about 
as long as the width of the keys on the full size keyboard on my 
laptop. Hiroko said lets get out of here while I still have some 
blood left. We were off and running again.
 
Hiroko had another site nearby that she wanted to visit. I saw a 
town off in the distance and decided we needed to first find 
some mosquito repellant before we ventured out into any more 
ruins. I saw a turnoff from the autopista and took it. We wound 
our way through what turned out to be a very large city but we 
had no way of knowing that at the time. I did make any special 
notice of direction or landmarks as I assumed this was a very 
small place and finding our way out was going to be matter-of-
fact. That was not a good strategy as I learned later on.
 
We came upon a shop that was open in what appeared to be a 
lonely town devoid of many people despite there being blocks and 
blocks of structures that were residential and commercial. I 
asked the shopkeeper if she had any spray on repellant and she 
said no, but told me where to go to find it. We came upon a 
public market on what was normally a street that usually has 
vehicle traffic on it. We decided to park the car and check it 
out. It looked small and quaint, but we had to drive for blocks 
to find a parking space suggesting this open-air market was well 
attended. We finally parked and began to walk back to the market 
when we saw a pharmacy. We asked for and were presented with a 
choice of either a spray on or cream type repellant. We bought 
the spray and were in the market in a flash.
 
It did not take long to figure out why the town was relatively 
devoid of people; everyone was at the market. We walked one way 
then another and saw everything we had seen at the market at the 
Ocatlan market on Friday. Today was my "bug day." I finally 
stopped at an Indian woman selling grasshoppers and bought a 
small bag of them. The only ones selling those insects were the 
local Indians without a stall. Most were either weaving their 
way through the crowd or sitting on a curb or in some cases just 
sitting on the ground. With the bounty of grasshoppers out in 
the fields it is likely a good way for the poor Indians to 
generate some cash by collecting the insects, preparing them and 
selling them. I find it difficult to image there is a network of 
producers, preparers, wholesalers and distribution for this 
item.
 
After a brief pause I gingerly place one in my mouth and began 
to chew. It was only slightly oiled and not as crunchy as the 
toasted grasshopper I had eaten years earlier at a food exp in 
San Francisco. There was only the slightest hint of oil and it 
was cut by the lime juice that was applied to it and then 
lightly salted. They were tastier than I had thought they might 
be and I was soon grabbing several at a time and chucking them 
into my mouth and enjoying them. I offered some to Hiroko and 
she told me she did not even want to look at them. 
 
As we made our way through this seemingly endless street lined 
with merchants in their makeshift stalls we made notice of two 
places we wanted to stop. One was a stall with a woman cooking 
chickens over charcoals and it smelled out of this world. The 
other was a side street that Hiroko noticed some garments that 
caught her eye. She has been on a mission to find a hand made 
chemise type flowing dress with traditional local embroidery on 
it. You know the kind I mean; straight sided and rectangular 
without any tailoring for the waist. 
 
After a while we walked enough and never did find the end of 
this street lined with merchants. It became too redundant and we 
made our way back to find the chicken to have lunch. We stopped 
at a similar but different stall, asked the price, agreed to it 
and sat at the small single table on the sidewalk behind the 
roadway grill. The woman asked if we wanted it to stay or go and 
we said to stay. They she asked if we wanted it "separado" and 
at the time we did not understand what she was asking us. We 
said no, but she separated the half chicken onto two small 
Styrofoam trays and then we had a new word to add to our Spanish 
vocabulary. She gave us a choice of mole or picante sauce and we 
opted for the picante. 
 
At the time we stopped I had not noticed it, but there were four 
generations of women at this stall. Grandma appeared very old 
and frail and was simply seated at the curb. Her daughter was 
the barbeque master and her daughter was busy with her two 
children, running errands to get more tortillas and helping out 
around the stall. Her sister was the assistant chef and her 
oldest daughter bused and cleaned the tables. It was indeed a 
multi-generational family affair. I did my best to photograph 
everyone and interact with everyone except grandma, who just sat 
at the curb with her back towards us the whole time. The meal 
was great. I paid them and then asked the BBQ queen if I could 
take her picture. She reluctantly agreed and then would not look 
at the camera. Other people that were standing in front of the 
grill awaiting their order graciously stepped back so I could 
get a clear photo of the woman and I suspect not get a photo of 
them in the process. Many Indians just do not like having their 
photo taken.
 
We made our way back to the row of clothing venders. Hiroko 
zeroed in on one stall and I pointed to something that I liked. 
It was a very bright multi-colored thing with the representation 
of chickens all over it. I would have remembered that lunch 
forever, had Hiroko wanted that one, but it was not to her 
liking. She found one that was a delicately embroidered in blue 
on a white background that looked typical for the area. She 
asked the price and then turned to me with a look that said, "I 
want this one" and then it was my job to negotiate a better 
price, which I did. We made our way back to the car with full 
stomachs and a happy camper now that she has secured the dress 
she had been searching for literally for almost a week. 
 
With the help of a few nice people on the street giving us 
direction we managed to navigate our way back to the highway and 
we were off again. We would remember or visit to the Tlacolula 
Sunday market for a long time. We were heading back to town and 
Hiroko suggested that we take the car back to our apartment and 
then go to the Museum of Modern Art in Oaxaca. I suggested an 
alternative. I did not want to wear myself out this day. We have 
been going and doing every day and I felt my body asking for 
some down time which I also wanted. 
 
Driving back towards Oaxaca we decided to drive into the 
mountains. We had started the day thinking we were going to have 
lunch at a cantina in the mountains that William had mentioned 
to us. I thought it was cute when he said that since we were so 
adventurous we might enjoy lunching at a place that he and his 
wife frequent regularly. Not knowing what he meant by 
"adventurous".   We turned north at the highway 175 interchange 
and headed into the mountains seeking out the roadside cafˇ El 
Colibri and the owner Carmilita, a friend of the owners of our 
apartment. 
 
Getting up the mountain was an adventure with roadside cows 
wandering around unattended, a narrow road with hairpin turns, 
lots of potholes, large buses and trucks that cannot stay in 
their lane on the curves and turns and some slow and timid 
drivers making the trek much longer than it would take me on an 
open road. We got there in the fog and rain and had a bowl of 
soup and coffee. Rested for a bit and chatted with Carmilita who 
we met quite by accident. Her server was asking us a question we 
did not understand and she overheard the question and our lack 
of response, so told us in English what was being asked of us. 
 
Carmilita was off on an errand, but said she would return 
shortly. She did, we chatted and I gave her my photo card and 
she said she would visit the site. We were on our way back to 
the apartment again and prepared for the adventurous thirty plus 
minute drive down the mountain. We got back to the apartment and 
I started in with my stuff. Dinner was going to be a simple 
affair of leftover soup, salad and bread. We are eating quite a 
diet not too unlike what we normally eat at home, bugs not 
included. 
 
I had mentioned to Hiroko that I wanted to go to the nearby park 
this evening after dinner to mediate and celebrate the autumn 
Equinox. The timing was such that we were sitting at the same 
time that my Sangha (a meditation group) back in Berkeley, CA 
was sitting and they too were celebrating the Equinox. I feel a 
strong connection to the individuals in this group no matter 
where I am on a Sunday evening, when they normally meditate 
together.
 
We ate, I returned the car to the parking station and we walked 
to the park. All of the streets in this neighborhood are well 
lit at night enhancing the feeling of safety for pedestrians. 
This is the first evening walk outside the Zocolo for Hiroko. 
She was always worried about my return walk from the parking 
station. After this walk, she might worry a little less about my 
return to the apartment after parking the car.
 
The park was very well lit and full of people and life. I picked 
a spot close to the large water fountain in the center of the 
park so I could hear the delightfully peaceful sound of the 
water falling back into the pond area. As I sat with my eyes 
closed, it was quite different than the quiet solitude I 
normally sit and mediate in. I thoroughly enjoyed the sound of 
children running, playing and laughing along with the sounds of 
life all around us. It was a refreshingly different experience. 
Before long we were on our way back to the apartment with a 
brief stop to look at the menu of a park-side restaurant that 
boasts of 100% natural foods. Yes, we'll be back there for lunch 
tomorrow.
 
I wonder just how long these great days will last? We have not 
had a bad one save the trek through Mexico City traffic. Stay 
tuned.


Sat. 20 Sept. 2008, Day 19 away from home, day 17 in country:

I cannot believe that I slept through to 6:00 AM this morning. 
The Oaxacan PBS was at work at 6:30 AM as usual. The fighter jet 
jocks that typically do their low level fly over at 6:30 AM must 
sleep in on the weekends, as they did not do their morning fly 
over until 8:30 AM.
 
I started my morning with boiling a pot of water for my morning 
beverage of choice: hot water with citrus juice. I used to laugh 
at my mother when she would order a cup of hot water with a 
lemon wedge in the restaurant. I thought she was doing it 
because it was free and mom was the master of being frugal. 
After she buried my father when they had two kids already and 
one on the way with no insurance and no assets, she knew how to 
make a stretch buck, which is one thing I never learned from 
her. A few years ago when I stopped drinking coffee, I replaced 
it with hot water with fresh lemon and lime.
 
I had to ask Hiroko why I stopped drinking coffee as I no longer 
remembered when I mentioned to my sister Simi the other day.  I, 
too, am showing signs of aging with memory lapses. I guess it 
goes with the territory.  However, I seem to recall mom remember 
EVERYTHING into her early 90s. Then again Nancy, my mom, was 
from eastern European stock and had an iron constitution. Her 
three children are beginning to have memory lapse.
 
Today we wanted to get an early start to go to the large Mercado 
de Abascos because it was supposed to be three times the size of 
what we saw the other day according to the AAA guide book on 
every Saturday. There is this really nasty intersection right 
where the market is that is always bottlenecked. We decided that 
it would be better strategically to go passed that intersection 
when we arrived there early and park beyond it, which we did.  
The first parking space I chose had a sign that suggested it 
might be a bus stop. I was willing to risk getting a parking 
ticket until Hiroko told me that they don't give tickets, they 
tow you away. 
 
I drove down the block and made an illegal U-turn. Yes, I am now 
fully acclimated to driving in Mexico. We found what appeared to 
be a legal parking space and made our way to the market. There 
were fewer merchants, fewer people and it was a complete 
disappointment to us. We walked around for a very short bit and 
then headed back to the car. We negotiated a new game plan for 
the day. We decided to drive to the northern section of town 
that Hiroko wanted to see and we had not been there. 
 
Following the signs, we found ourselves headed north and then 
saw a sign pointing towards San Felipe. This is the area Hiroko 
had already decided was a "cool" part of town from what she had 
read and thought this might be the neighborhood we should live 
in. As we got passed the periferico and was in the northern part 
of town it was becoming what was a very nice residential and 
commercial zone. The further north we drove, the nicer it got. 
Before long we were looking at huge homes in nice neighborhoods 
with a sprinkling of posh looking hotels, shi-shi restaurants 
and nice shops.
 
We passed this small church as we headed to what became the end 
of 
the road. There was a bus turn around in a circle like 
configuration. Surrounding the turn around circle was not very 
much. A small horse tethered to its yard, a donkey wandering the 
street munching on greenery as it pleased, a few parked buses 
likely awaiting their departure time to keep on schedule 
(assuming they have one) and a few lazy dogs laying out in the 
street and caring less about us, our car or the buses. There was 
a typical makeshift restaurant set up in a lot on the circle and 
some of what appeared to be the bus drivers in there relaxing. 
 
As we turned around to make our way down the hill we were on, I 
parked the car on the circle and got out to shoot the casually 
grazing donkey on the circle. I spoke to him in Spanish and 
English, but he barely gave me a head turn. Snap, snap and I am 
back in the car and we were on our way again. As we approached 
the cute church we passed a short time earlier, I noticed a 
small 
group of merchants in this tiny local market beside the church. 
Since we had no definite plans, we decided to stop. 
 
The produce at this tiny neighborhood outdoor market was awesome 
looking. We really did not need much, but we got a package of 
stuff shrink-wrapped that I was certain was a soup mix. We also 
got some good looking mushrooms, a white onion and a few 
avocados. On the way back to the car we saw a woman selling 
fresh fish. It was the first fresh fish we saw being sold 
anywhere. She gave me a cooked shrimp to sample and we asked her 
if she was there every day. She said no, but she would be back 
on Tuesday. I guess I am cooking fresh fish for dinner Tuesday.
 
We made our way back to the apartment noticing wonderful looking 
town homes, apartments and houses. It looked like we found the 
neighborhood we might want to live in sometime in the future. As 
we neared the periferico, the concentration of shops and 
restaurants increased, as did the numbers of shops. We made our 
way back to the apartment, unloaded the car and made our way 
towards the museum at the Church of Santo Domingo. 
 
Hiroko had read about this place, but we were not prepared for 
what we saw. They had a magnificent collection of art that was 
one of the best and most complete pre-Columbian collections we 
had ever seen. Their presentation was as unique as the structure 
that housed it. The ceramics, the jewelry, the sculpture and the 
library of antique books, maps and artifacts was awesome. We 
were there for about ninety minutes when my back began to bother 
me. That can and does happen from standing in one place for a 
while. We decided to leave and will most assuredly return here 
before we leave town.
 
Our next stop was supposed to be a restaurant we passed the 
night before. It offered a lunch that was a three course set 
menu of typical Oaxacan foods. Much to our dismay there was a 
sign on the door that they were closed permanently. We were 
surprised considering we saw it open the prior evening. We then 
headed to another place we saw the prior evening and it was 
open. 
 
The menu was two large chalkboards about eight feet high and 
five feet wide hanging at the end of the dining area. The dining 
area was open to the sky and the elements, but there was a 
movable roof that could be used to protect the dining area from 
rain. It was an enchanting environment. We ordered a Oaxacan 
salad which turned out to be tomato, cheese and what was likely 
grilled eggplant with a very delightful oil and herb dressing. 
 
We also ordered a dish of chicken and plantain. The thinly 
sliced chicken was wrapped around slices of plantain perhaps an 
inch and a half long. The preparation appeared to be baked and 
was served on a platter of mole sauce and the four pieces of 
chicken were placed around a mound of rice in the middle of the 
dinner sized platter. It was too beautiful to eat, but we dug 
in. The food was great!
 
We both ate too much (sound familiar) and decided we needed to 
walk off the meal that we could not finish. We also walked 
around looking for the Mercado de Artisanes (the artist's 
cooperative market). We had a bit of difficulty finding it, but 
managed to get there. Hiroko suggested that we leave and when I 
was busy doing something else that she would return without me, 
pick what she wanted and then I could come back with her and 
negotiate a price. She is not very good at dong that sort of 
thing and some people believe that Jews have a genetic 
predisposition for that sort of thing. I told her that was not a 
good idea. I was concerned that because it was not the best part 
of town, it might represent a danger to her. I told her I would 
return with her.
 
We made our way back to the public market. I was ready to buy a 
bottle of Mescal and did. It is made from the same Agave plant 
as Tequila only they cannot call it Tequila and the preparation 
is slightly different so the taste is slightly different. After 
that we went to our favorite local grocery store and I bought a 
bottle of spices I had been looking for. I gave up trying to 
find a bottle of ground black pepper. They just do not use it 
here, so nobody sells it. 
 
While Hiroko was looking as some blouses and dresses for sale on 
the street in the central plaza I went into the grocery store 
where we usually buy wine. I noticed the other day that they had 
packages of peppercorn for sale for 10-Pesos (ten cents US). I 
bought it and would later crush them with a pair of pliers I 
brought along in a case of emergency road repair tools. 
 
After that we stopped at our favorite local bakery and bought 
some bread and goodies. We made it back to the apartment and I 
immediately began to sterilize the produce in preparation for 
making a vegetable soup and another batch of guacamole. I used 
the same guacamole recipe I learned from Rudy, my mom's live-in 
boyfriend of nearly forty years until he passed away. He was a 
restaurant guy and knew sauces like nobody else. 
 
I got the pot of soup going and then I made the guacamole. Then 
I got into the blogging and the Mescal about the same time, so 
if there is some weird looking writing, blame it on the Mexican 
jet fuel. Hiroko made her usually great stir fry vegetables and 
rice for our dinner to go with the soup. She threw in the left 
over goat meat we had from lunch the other day and it added a 
great flavor. That goat meat is expensive at 200-Pesos per kilo 
(a kilo is 2.25 pounds). I am done with this blog for today and 
it is time to wind down and chill. Will we get to watch the end 
of movie 2001 tonight? Later...


Fri. 19 Sept. 2008, Day 18 away from home, day 16 in country:

I awakened refreshed this morning after a good night's sleep in 
spite of the noisy fridge. Could it be that I am getting used to 
it? I did my early morning computer stuff, but today was 
different in many ways. Shortly after waking up I was introduced 
to the Oaxacan Public Broadcasting Service (PBS). The PBS here 
is a pickup truck with loudspeakers (and I do mean loud) 
blasting messages throughout the neighborhood. Of course, there 
is also the morning fly over of the military jets around 6:30 AM 
every morning. 
 
Fridays I shift into a different writing gear. I have weekly 
newsletter that I must write and ship off to my editor in an 
upscale Boston suburb. Rosemary Costantini has been editing my 
weekly and monthly newsletters for somewhere in the neighborhood 
of ten years and does a sensational job. After reading my style 
of analysis and commentary on the economy, housing, interest 
rates and the Federal Reserve, she knows how to clean up my 
"Brooklynese" destruction of the English language.
 
After not getting into gear and leaving the apartment until 
nearly 11:00 AM yesterday, I was determined to remain focused 
and get my work done early and out for editing. This is a sort-
of working holiday for me. It is also a trial run for living and 
working outside the USA. After two months of being out of the 
USA, writing and providing customer service (when necessary) 
will prove if I can continue to produce newsletters while living 
offshore. So far, so good!
 
Nora Gutieerez, wife of William (owners of the apartment we are 
renting in the triplex) had mentioned to Hiroko a few days ago 
about a great Friday market about 40 Km south of town. That was 
where our adventure was going to take us today. I love to roam 
through the public markets and see the many wonderful faces of 
the people. Of course, the children are my favorite and I seize 
on every opportunity to interact with them and photograph them 
when I can. Children, much like many dogs, have an intuitive 
sense of who to trust and who to be leery of. 
 
The population in this state is 40% indigenous peoples. Often 
the children of the Indians are leery of gringos (Lili defined 
gringo for me as "white people" and nothing more). Some of the 
dogs around here are also leery of gringos. There is one 
particular small brown dog with medium length hair (a mutt) that 
I say hello to every time I see him. He immediately begins to 
howl like crazy whenever I say something to him. He was likely 
either abused by a male person or is just like that with 
everyone. Unlike many sorry looking malnourished dogs in Mexico, 
this one looked well fed, well groomed and healthy. I think he 
is someone's pet or was one up until recently. Hiroko says I 
must get a photo of him for the website. It was already on my 
mind and it will happen. I decided to call the dog Moito. He has 
a face very similar to a dog my sister Simi (Sanda Aronson) used 
to have decades ago named Moe, only this Oaxacan dog is of a 
smaller stature hence Moito (if you add "ito" to the end of 
something in Spanish it implies it is a smaller version).
 
We were off and running headed for Ocotl‡n to the south. The 
only source of friction between Hiroko and I on this trip so far 
has been over communication issues and typically surrounding 
driving and navigating through unfamiliar places. Considering we 
have been together 24/7 for the past three weeks, it is quite 
remarkable that we are not at each other when we are not in the 
car. 
 
The drive to Ocotl‡n is navigated on a road whose conditions 
would simply not be allowed to exist anywhere in the USA. It is 
not because of the frequent Topes (speed bumps) or Reductors 
(Topes on steroids) that keep the speed of traffic down in 
commercial or residential areas. These traffic control devises 
are everywhere in Mexico and once you get used to them, driving 
safely is not that bad. However, not all the topes or reductors 
are clearly marked and if you hit one at speed you are going to 
do some damage to your tires, wheels or axels. People are 
forewarned (if they bother to do any research or reading about 
Mexico) that is not safe to drive at night on the open roads 
outside of towns because of the risk to life and limb and it is 
not just from the speed bumps. Cattle and livestock often wander 
onto the roadway, including the major highway network. I have 
seen more than one carcass of a large animal on the side of the 
road with pieces of vehicles nearby.
 
Some of the potholes on the road to Ocotl‡n reminded me of bomb 
craters in the Imperial Palace complex in the City of Hue, 
Vietnam. They left many bomb craters untouched as a reminder of 
our B-52s raining of bombs on them during the war there. Some of 
the smaller potholes we encountered were more than a foot deep 
and you had to pay close attention to the road or risk damage, 
injury or worse. We managed to get there unscathed and noticed 
the major construction of a new wider roadway for this route to 
the coast that is said to be a windy narrow road and a six to 
eight hour adventure to get to the beach.
 
This Friday market was much more than we expected. It was huge 
with farmers, peasants and merchants everywhere selling their 
stuff. You name it and you can find it there. We even saw people 
walking goats down the street and within the market area. We 
think they were headed for their destiny. In our walking around, 
we found an electrical converter from two-prong to three-prong 
outlet. In some places we were not able to plug in the 
electrical surge protector because it is three-prong and the 
place had only two-prong electrical outlets. We bought a cast 
iron juice squeezer for the sack of oranges we were planning on 
buying. And we bought Hiroko a nice typical shawl.
 
Aside from the thousands of merchants selling hardware, 
textiles, music CDs and all manner of junk (form our 
perspective, mind you) we were beyond impressed with the quality 
and variety of produce, a variety of roasted and fried insects 
and raw and cooked meats and poultry. The vegetables were 
gorgeous. We bought green onions, heirloom tomatoes and lettuce. 
We decided that this was the place we would come to shop on 
Friday mornings. 
 
After weaving our way through some, but not all of the outdoor 
market that is only there to the extent is was on Fridays, we 
went into the interior public market and marveled at the 
varieties of breads being sold, flowers and flower arrangements 
and more beautiful produce. I got the photo of the day of a 
young girl at the produce stall her mother and grandmother were 
tending. After smiling at her and saw her smiling back at me, I 
started to speak with her. She was being either shy or 
coquettish and I asked her if I could take her picture. Again 
she did not reply and semi-hid behind the wooden gate of the 
stall. I snapped the photo and showed it to her first. She 
smiled from ear to ear. Then I showed it to grandma who let out 
a roaring belly laugh of approval. Then I shoed it to mama and 
got her smile of approval. I thanked them all and we were on our 
way. 
 
We came upon the prepared food section of the interior market 
and stopped at a stall that made empanadas. There are dinner 
plate sized tortillas that she hand made in the stall using a 
dough press and then partially cooked the flattened dough on a 
sort of flattened wok-shaped steel grill. When it was partially 
cooked, firmer and more manageable for handling she placed some 
mixture that looked as though it was made from beans and 
tomatoes that covered only half of the tortilla. She then added 
some chicken, folded the thing in half and finished cooking it 
until it was a semi-golden brown on the outside. It looked 
delicious. Hiroko and I looked at each other and then sat down 
to try one.
 
Carolina was the cook's name. She was a very pleasant and 
engaging young woman that appeared to be in her mid thirties, 
but gauging that here is likely not accurate considering our 
lack of interactions with these peoples. The empananda was 
delicious. She cut it in half for us sensing we were going to 
share it. On the counter were bowls of guacamole, picante sauce 
and a bean paste like stuff. I opened my half, dressed it was 
some picante sauce (after gauging the heat with the tip of my 
finger) and guacamole and woofed that baby down, loving every 
bit of it even though it was a bit too oily for my way of 
eating. When in Rome as they say. . .
 
The return trip to the apartment was uneventful. We could not 
help but notice the proliferation of the Internet everywhere in 
Mexico. I would contribute the rapid change of lifestyles and 
standard of living here. We unloaded our stuff at the apartment 
and then made our daily walk, only today we did not need to go 
to the large public market, so we went to the Santo Domingo 
church and explored an area of town we had not walked yet. 
 
The church of Santo Domingo defies description with gold leaf, 
carvings and ornate stuff everywhere including the ceilings. We 
also strolled down some cool streets and made mental notes of 
where to return to for dinner and shopping. We returned to the 
apartment relatively early. Hiroko made a huge salad for dinner 
and we called it a night after I returned the car to the parking 
lot. We had anther failed attempt to complete the viewing of the 
movie 2001.
 
As an afterthought to our stay here in Oaxaca so far, we have 
been having days that are so full that we have little time to 
just sit around and read, relax or miss television.


Thu. 18 Sept. 2008, Day 17 away from home, day 15 in country:

Routine as usual, I got up rather early again. There is a 
refrigerator in our room that is beyond its useful life and the 
motor is making more noise than one would reasonably expect a 
tenant to have to live with. I sent an email to the owner rather 
than discuss it with him directly because I am in a totally non-
confrontational mode these days. I let him know that the only 
thing that is keeping our apartment from being "perfect" was the 
noisy fridge. The ball is in his court. 
 
This morning I opted for a light breakfast (orange juice, coffee 
and toast). I have been eating way too much on this trip and I 
fear the capacity of my stomach may be expanding, so today is 
light consumption day for me. Of course, it is a light 
consumption day for Hiroko every day. I sometimes think our 
house cats eat more than she does.  
 
I was busily playing with photos and blog this morning after 
breakfast and time simply slipped away. We had plans to go to 
Monte Alb‡n this morning to visit the vast complex of ruins that 
have largely, but not completely restored. Monte Alb‡n was the 
capital of the Zapotec world and these peoples and this capital, 
including a structured society and government predated the birth 
of Christ by a 500 hundred years when it was founded. If fact 
there is evidence and artifacts to show that communities and 
cultures began in this valley about 8,000 years ago. That 
predates the Jewish calendar's notion of the beginning of the 
world by more than two millennia. 
 
I wanted to go to what I thought was the large market at the 
southwest corner of town called Mercado de Abastos. I was 
mistaken about the size of this place. I am sure the gigantic 
Mall of America could easily fit into this complex of buildings, 
stalls and a sea of merchants selling just about anything you 
could want. I got brave and parked at the curb after somehow 
finding a legal parking space right across the main street from 
the market. We took the pedestrian bridge overpass as traffic 
was heavy and we were not anxious to become road kill just yet.
 
We weaved our way through the endless rows of stalls seeing all 
things imaginable. I wanted to go here to secure the things we 
needed for us in the apartment that were not easily found in the 
large public market we walk to every day. We were told that the 
Mercado de Abastos was the distribution point that feeds all the 
other public markets around the area like the one we frequent in 
central Oaxaca and the one in Etla we went to the other day and 
had our goat lunch. One of the first things we saw at this 
gigantic market were strawberries imported from California. They 
weren't kidding when they said you can get anything here.
 
Some of the things we hunted down were terrycloth towels for the 
kitchen, rope to make a clothesline in our atrium area, 
clothespins, slippers for me and we got some rice and peanuts 
and a jug of some alcoholic beverage for Hiroko called 
FrutiCrem. Our next-door neighbor Lili told us that it is the 
Mexican version of Baileys Irish Cream and Hiroko would like it 
over mescal.
 
After we completed our shopping it was time to leave, but which 
direction to go in was the magical question. The place is so 
large and yet confined that you have no prominent features to 
use as a landmark, so it is very easy to get disoriented. Using 
logic I figured if we walked in the same direction long enough 
eventually we would come to the end of the market and that did 
the trick. We were on the completely opposite end of where we 
entered, but at least we were outside and could walk around the 
place until we got back to the Periferico where we were parked. 
To my surprise the car was still there without damage or parking 
ticket. We were off to Monte Alb‡n.
 
The sky was getting much darker as we drove towards Monet Alb‡n, 
which is up in the hill above Oaxaca. The signage on how to get 
there was pretty straight-forward for a change and we did not 
have to backtrack or make a u-turn even once to get there. I am 
finally getting handle on how they place the signs and quˇ 
quiere decir me (what they are trying to tell me). The site was 
expansive, awesome and beautiful from many different 
perspectives.
 
Of course, after we parked the car we had to "run the gauntlet" 
of merchants trying to sell their wares. Unlike the typical 
tourist areas we have been to in the past the "hawkers" of 
merchandise are devoid of the aggression we have seen in places 
like Acapulco, Cancun and others. Because of that it is not an 
adversarial situation and I pleasantly say "no thank you" in 
Spanish and they accept that and we move on.
 
One of the first ruins we saw, not including the fully restored 
massive wall at the perimeter of the complex, was the former 
residence of someone that had to be pretty damn important. It 
was a multi-room structure with a cooking area and it even had 
water drainage for any intrusion during storms like the one we 
were about to experience. Hiroko commented that she would not 
mind having a house on that spot as the view of the Oaxaca 
Valley was slightly beyond spectacular. 
 
Moving on we made our way towards the main plaza that is about 
650 meters by 650 meters. For those of you not into metrics one 
meter is roughly 3.25 feet. I believe that we in the United 
States are alone in the world in not using the metric system. 
How typical. Do you know where the measurement of one foot came 
from? It was the length of a British King's foot. I find it 
difficult at times to describe spectacular or majestic sights 
and this was one of those instances. Even photos cannot fully 
capture the power and energy that went into creating this 
special place. 
 
We climbed up and down some of the structures and were 
particularly awed at the astronomical observatory that dates 
back to the second era of this place. Equally inspiring was the 
fact that without modern tools or the wheel they removed the top 
of the mountain the site was on and filled in voids to make this 
place a man-made high plateau for them to build their massive 
structures and have them survive. Many times we hear of 
developments build on landfill that settle and destroy homes, 
buildings and lives. Their engineering was great as they did not 
have the issue many modern structures often run into. 
 
Orientation of the buildings surrounding the main court are in 
alignment with the cardinal points (of the compass), but the 
observatory had a different orientation. It was beginning to 
rain a bit harder than the drizzle we were experiencing already. 
We strolled a bit with our tiny travel umbrella in hand and much 
of our bodies got wet, but the camera and our heads remained 
dry. It was vacillating between alight rain and a downpour. We 
finally had enough when we saw some really dark clouds headed 
our way and we would see the sheets of rain pelting the valley. 
We made our way back towards the museum where the entrance to 
the site is.
 
The authorities here, in their infinite wisdom, decided to 
remove the pristine stillas from the structures at the site, put 
them into the museum and replace them with reproductions. 
Unfortunately, many of the reproductions look like 
reproductions. The stuff in the museum was impressive, but there 
really wasn't very much there. After walking around and seeing 
everything within fifteen minutes we made our way to the museum 
cafˇ. I ordered a bowl of soup and a cup of black tea and Hiroko 
had a cappuccino.
 
We were sitting at a table with a phenomenal view of the valley 
below and we enjoyed that as much as our light snack. We also 
enjoyed watching the many hummingbirds dancing in the air and 
perching on the tree branches in front of us. We finished and 
headed back to the car for our return to the apartment. 
 
We parked at the apartment, settled in and unloaded what we had 
purchased during the day. While we were sitting at the table our 
neighbor Chris came by and asked if we wanted to try the rabbit 
Lili's father Armando had made. Our front door is almost always 
open when we are home and when it is not too chilly as it can be 
in the mornings. We said yes and then went back to their 
apartment to return shortly thereafter. Lili's father not only 
made a rabbit dinner for them, but he also picked a squash out 
of his garden and cooked that too. The dinner size platter they 
brought over also had some of Armando's homemade guacamole and a 
tomato based sauce for the rabbit. The rabbit was wrapped in 
some small green leaves and the whole thing looked great. 
 
As we made ready to head off on foot for our mile walk to the 
public market Hiroko had a great idea. She said we should return 
the diner platter with some pastries on it as a "thank you" for 
the dinner. We did our evening trek picking up some other stuff 
along the way like two bottles of wine, bread and other 
essentials. We ate, we wound down and cleaned up and made ready 
for bed.
 
We gave a try watching the movie 2001 on my laptop for the 
second consecutive night without success. We were asleep long 
before the movie was half way through. At this rate this one 
movie might last half our stay in Oaxaca. It was anther good 
day.


Wed. 17 Sept. 2008, Day 16 away from home, day 14 in country:

It is reaching a point (rather rapidly I must admit) of settling 
into a normal daily routine. It is becoming manifestly obvious 
to me that we could easily live here very comfortably. The 
overwhelming majority of the people here are very pleasant and 
comfortable to be around. I muse over all the fears our friends 
and relatives had for our safety while here for our two-month 
adventure. I feel infinitely safer here than I do in Oakland, 
CA: day or night. 
 
In many areas of Oakland if I walked down the street with the 
large digital camera hanging around my neck, it would not be 
there for very long. Here in Oaxaca, or anywhere else in Mexico 
(with the notable exception of Mexico City). I have not had a 
moment's concern for our personal safety: day or night. Even in 
large metropolitan areas like Puebla (3rd largest city with a 
population of more than 1.3 million), Guadealajara (2nd largest 
city) we could and did walk in many places at night, even 
venturing down dark and dimly lit streets, devoid of fear or 
concern. 
 
In Oaxaca we were warned that perhaps one area on the southeast 
of town might not be too safe at night. It is a primarily 
commercial and residential area that has very few people on the 
streets at night and the streets are not very well lit. Beyond 
that, I have walked through many neighborhoods at night taking 
pictures without concern for safety or for the camera. If you 
were one of our friends worrying about our safety, got over it. 
We are not foolish or reckless and will not take any unnecessary 
chances. 
 
The day began as usual per our new daily routine. I was up first 
and put up a pot of coffee and jumped into the computer. We are 
even approaching our normal eating habits and diets here. There 
is one very large difference in our daily routines here: no 
television! Yes, there is good cable TV service in this city and 
country but there is just no TV in our apartment. I do have some 
regrets about that. We were using television as a vocabulary 
builder wile on the road. We would find stations showing English 
language movies with Spanish subtitles that expanded not just 
our vocabulary, but also gave us insights into contemporary 
usage of the language, which you do not get from dictionaries. I 
guess we will endure and survive this small challenge. 
 
For breakfast Hiroko made was terrific (as usual) vegetable 
omelet. I was busily trying to get through my stuff because we 
were expecting Lili, her husband Chris and her father at our 
doorstep at 10:00 AM for another adventure. Lili's father was 
taking us to some ruins that tourists rarely ever find or visit. 
It is only 20 Km outside of Oaxaca, but it is mostly unexcavated 
and relatively unknown. Hiroko found descriptions and locations 
of a dozen archeological sites on the web and this one was not 
even listed online. 
 
I had to go retrieve our car from the estacionamiento (parking 
station) where we keep the car. There is street parking outside 
the apartments but William suggested it might be safer for the 
vehicle and for our peace of mind if we left it in a secured 
area overnight. The parking area is a short walk away and is one 
where you do not have to leave your keys with the attendant, 
which is more desirable. We could have had overnight parking for 
a month for 350-Pesos, but opted for 24/7 access for 600-Pesos a 
month, which is less than US$60. We can bring the car up to 
11:00 PM and it opens between 6:00 and 7:00 AM. Perfecto!
 
Okay, so I go to retrieve the car and the person that just 
parked beside me was wearing a N.Y. Yankee baseball cap. Of 
course, I had to start a conversation with him over the cap. He 
was a very pleasant gentleman in his late 50s or early 60s that 
moved back here from The Bronx. I've always wondered why the 
boroughs of New York City are named Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, 
Staten Island and The Bronx. Why is there is the word "The" in 
front of Bronx and not for any other Borough? I'm going to have 
to Google that one of these days. The gentleman's family is from 
here and he moved back here. He appeared to be on his way to 
work, so we chatted briefly and we went about our ways.
 
I drove back to the apartment just in time for the arrival of 
"Popito" as Chris endearingly referred to him. His name is 
really Armando. We got into the car and we were on our way about 
10:30 AM. We drove through traffic no problem and I said to 
Hiroko, who was in the back seat with Lili and Armando, that I 
would not drive in a manner that would make anyone nervous. Of 
course, it was for the benefit of the passengers that did not 
know me, or my propensity for aggressive driving. It wasn't long 
before Chris chimed in and said he drives aggressively because 
it is safer that way. As Hiroko says, "It is a guy thing."
 
We arrived at the village we were headed for turning into it at 
the landmark of an arch. We wound our way through the village of 
Santiago Suchilquitongo  and slowly made our way up the hill to 
a disproportionally large church for this village. There is 
nothing new with that scenario as we have seen this in many 
towns and villages all over Mexico. Armando get out of the car 
to talk to some gentlemen lounging and chatting in front of the 
church. This church is not one that is typically open for 
visitors, and it wasn't available to us either. We continued up 
the hill towards the ruins.
 
It was a winding single-lane dirt road that passed by many 
cottages with people going about their lives. I was surprised to 
see one cottage with an automatic electric washing machine in 
the front yard. It looked brand new, so I suppose it was 
working. We were chased up the hill by two barking dogs until 
they finally tired and gave up. We went as far as we could on 
the dirt road, parked and began to walk the rest of the way to 
the site.
 
Armando is a lifelong educator in this region. He was a teacher 
for nineteen years and then became a school principle. He is a 
village person from his youth and is also an expert in local 
herbs and their medicinal qualities. We got an extraordinarily 
interesting ongoing narrative of the plants that we were passing 
on our way up the hill and what their medicinal use was. Along 
the way up we were constantly seeing remnants of a vast complex 
of unexcavated structures. We were told there are a total of 
twenty-two structures on this huge site that dates back to the 
Zapotec culture. They predate the Mayan culture. This is a truly 
special place. It was so great to have the site alone to the 
five of us plus the guard on site. 
 
The views of the valley below were breathtaking. The site was a 
special place. Walking up the hill we could see ancient 
staircases peeking out of the dirt and vegetation all along the 
way. We were slowly getting the sense that this ancient site was 
much larger than anything we had expected to see. These ruinas 
covers an area that is much larger than the Monte Alb‡n site 
that the region is most noted for. We climbed the mounds, looked 
at the flowers, grasses and herbs growing and saw countless 
different varieties of grasshoppers all over the area. It was 
obvious why the ancients found the grasshoppers as a ready 
source of protein in their diets. 
 
After spending about an hour and a half at the site we went to 
the local museo, where they had some artifacts that they took 
from the tomb within the ruinas. We were the only ones to enter 
the otherwise locked museum in more than a month. Armando was 
apparently known to these people as he taught in this area years 
ago and they obviously were fond of him. They require everyone 
to log into the museum and then log out when leaving. I went 
through the log and fond that in the past eighteen months only 
ten North Americans (residents of the USA often forget we are 
not the only ones that occupy North America or the Americas in 
total) had visited this place.
 
After the museum we made our way back towards Oaxaca stopping at 
the market in Etla. Etla is like Chulula in that it is close to 
a major metropolitan area and became part of the urban sprawl. 
There is no discernable or visible differentiation between where 
Etla ends and Oaxaca begins save the Bienvenida sign above the 
roadway welcoming you. We headed to Armando's favorite food 
stall to have a lunch of a tomato based goat soup and roasted 
goat meat.
 
We were told that the goat we were eating was dressed and buried 
in the ground that morning along with charcoals and spices and 
slowly roasted. The meat was incredibly tasty, tender and 
delicious. We ate it with tortillas and spiced up with guacamole 
and pecante sauce. Lili suggested we dip the tortilla roll we 
made ourselves into the soup to make it more moist. It was a 
good suggestion and the meal was sensational. We overate, again. 
We walked here, there an everywhere in and around the market 
area before heading back to our apartment. 
 
Lili said her father was buying lunch, but we picked up the 
check (more like numbers scratched onto a napkin with a ball 
point pen) first. At the market counter where we were eating 
Armando asked if we liked to eat rabbit. I know Hiroko has never 
eaten rabbit before, but I love it. When we said yes he invited 
us to join him, Lili and Chris for a rabbit dinner he would be 
preparing the next day. We accepted the invitation.
 
After arriving back at the apartment, Armando reminded us of the 
invitation for the next day. We are very much looking forward to 
it. We are loving our cross-cultural experiences here in Mexico. 
It is the people just as much, if not more so, as the places we 
are visiting that is making this journey so special. After we 
dropped some stuff off at the apartment, we made our one-mile 
trek to the large public market to stock up on our daily 
provisions and the stuff for our dinner salad. Of course, there 
are several closer places where we can buy stuff, but the long 
walk each day is good for burning off all we have been eating 
and we love that giant market. We also stopped at our favorite 
panaderia for more bread and other baked goods for the room. 
This is likely going to be a daily tradition, and this is a very 
good thing. 
 
I returned the car to the parking area while Hiroko prepared a 
real salad that came close to what we normally eat at home. 
Hiroko was already into the vino tinto when I got back to the 
apartment. I made myself my typical "jet fuel".  After dinner we 
settled in for the evening. We tried to watch the movie "2001: A 
Space Odyssey" on my laptop, but we fell asleep within minutes 
of the start of the movie. It was another sensational day. 


Tue. 16 Sept. 2008, Day 15 away from home, day 13 in country:

Well, in my mind it was going to be difficult to top our first 
day's experiences in Oaxaca after the exquisite dinner and 
parting we enjoyed last night. 
 
I was awake first, as usual and did my best to go into the 
living room as quietly as possible and do some computer stuff 
and look at what the financial markets were doing after the 
chaos of Monday. I did my thing, worked on the blog, tinkered a 
bit with photos and enjoyed some of the stuff we purchased at 
the markets the day before.
 
We were told that the parade was beginning at 10:30 AM and we 
were not ready to leave our room until 10:30 AM, so we left 
thinking that we missed the parade. We had already seen a very 
long one earlier when we were encamped in Puebla, so what the 
heck. We took our time making a leisurely stroll towards the 
central plaza to see what, if anything might still be going on. 
Along the way we discovered that not all the merchants shut down 
even though this was Independence Day in this country. 
 
We found many things of interest and need. We found some great 
panderias (bakeries), grocery and convenience stores and markets 
that were open. Of course the street merchants are always ready 
to capitalize on the opportunities to sell their wares and the 
closer we got to El Centro, the more were seen. We could not 
help but notice an ungodly number of police of the municipal and 
state persuasion along with many federales. As it turned out we 
were within a few blocks of the central plaza and the parade had 
not begun yet.
 
We found a large grocery store and bought some essentials on our 
way to the plaza. There were armed folks with their horses 
(carbon and metallic based) everywhere, foot soldiers, trained 
canines, horses groomed to the nines as were the spit polished 
troops. Before we knew it we were hearing the band strike up and 
the parade began. Snap, snap, span.
 
It was not very long before we decided to have a seat at a 
sidewalk cafˇ and watch the world go by. We sat at a table and 
found ourselves sitting next to two Japanese girls from Osaka. 
Me being my usual self, I struck up a conversation with them 
(some things never change). We enjoyed our coffee and what was 
left of the parade and then went shopping now that we knew there 
were many places still open.
 
We bought a round screaming yellow plastic basin for 
disinfecting the fresh fruits and vegetables that we buy for 
consumption. Yes, it is still essential here. We bought a kettle 
for boiling water, a frying pan and we found this sensational 
market that you could buy almost anything you needed. We loaded 
up on veggies and other essentials along with another round of 
photos and enjoying the place thoroughly.
 
On the way back to the room we stopped at one of the bakeries we 
found earlier in the day and loaded up on bread, bread sticks, 
pastries and cookies. I have a feeling we will be visiting this 
place very regularly. What would have cost us ten to fifteen 
dollars at home cost us less than two dollars US here! It is a 
good thing there are no scales in our room to weigh myself. I 
also have developed an addiction to the potato chips in this 
country. I may have mentioned them before in our stop in Puebla, 
but in Oaxaca they are even more special.
 
Back in the states if you want to buy some potato chips you go 
to the market or the convenience store and buy a processed, pre-
packaged, chemical laden, vitamin enriched and processed potato 
chip that likely has the nutritional value of college-lined 
loose leaf paper. Here they have sidewalk merchants where you 
can watch them peel the potatoes, slice them by hand (no 
kidding), fry them and serve them to you while they are still 
hot. I used to like the crap at home, that I will likely never 
consumer again. You have no idea how great a potato chip can 
taste fresh out of the fryer. The locals eat them much 
differently than I do. They like to salt them, squeeze limes 
over them, and add red salsa (pacante sauce) to them.
 
We got back to our room, did some stuff, Hiroko made pizza from 
the flat bread we bought along with the cheese (the fresh cheese 
here is beyond awesome- somewhat like mozzarella but a little 
saltier), fresh veggies, fresh herbs that we bought and balsamic 
vinegar that we found in another market along with a good and 
inexpensive bottle of Mexican made Cab from a winery we visited 
in Baja California a few years ago on our way to Ensenada, 
Mexico. Good wine for 90-Pesos (less than US$9.oo per bottle. 
What could be bad?
 
After we ate, I wanted to head back to the plaza to see what 
holiday festivities might still be going on. I also wanted to 
some night shooting (photos, not people) and have more mental 
stimulation from this setting. After we had our fill and began 
to head back to our apartment we noticed some entertainment 
happening in front of the cathedral. With camera in hand I began 
to take some shots of the guy in a clown costume with full 
makeup in the center of a circle of a hundred or so people 
entertaining them. 
 
Before I knew what was to unfold, I fond myself in the center of 
the circle being pulled in by the clown. He was looking to 
enhance his show using me as the brunt of some jokes and I went 
along just for the fun of it. I got some great photos of the 
clown and his young son, who appeared to be confused by the 
"gringo" in the circle with him and his dad. After about five 
minutes I took advantage of an opening and made a graceful exit 
from the circle of people after putting 20-Pesos into the hat he 
held out. He told the crowd I only put in ten, but he was doing 
whatever he could to get people laughing and I understood his 
motivation and just played along. He is also entitled to make a 
living as best he can. Making people laugh is by far a better 
way of feeding his family than begging on the streets. 
 
We made it back to our room after seeing many interesting old 
building in a different light (it was after 9:30 PM), snapped 
some more pictures (did you expect anything else?) made it back 
to our apartment and turned in relatively early after another 
great day in Oaxaca. I could live here in a heartbeat based on 
what I have seen so far. I have a sense that the best is yet to 
come.


Mon. 15 Sept. 2008, Day 14 away from home, day 12 in country:
It was a much appreciated and greatly needed good night's sleep 
that we both enjoyed. However, the day started with the 
startling news on CNN of what was happening in the global 
financial markets and here I am in our room in Southern Mexico 
without Internet access. 
 
Shortly after waking at 5:00 AM local time I turned on the TV 
and heard the news about Lehman Brothers' holding company was 
going to file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in federal 
court this morning. Equally stunning was he news that Bank of 
America has agreed to terms for the acquisition of Merrill 
Lynch, the nation's largest brokerage house. The price tag was 
$50 billion in Bank of America stock. To say this destabilized 
the financial markets was an understatement.
 
Shortly after 6:00 AM, after being glued to CNN I went down to 
the hotel restaurant in search of coffee. It was too early for 
them, which was a surprise to me. The place did not even have 
its lights on. I went back at 6:30 and was told the coffee would 
be ready in about fifteen minutes. I went back twenty minutes 
later and had a nice chat with the chef and the waiter. We were 
the only three in the restaurant. The chef recently returned 
from living in Los Angeles, CA. He could not find work there, so 
he returned to his hometown.
 
At around 7:00 AM I went down to the hotel lobby to use the 
public computer to get a better handle on what was happening in 
the financial markets as the idiots in CNN are beyond clueless 
as to what was happening and why. I was relieved to see that our 
stock markets remained open and trading was going on as normal 
albeit at lower levels. My fear was if the Dow Jones Industrial 
Average fell by more than 500 points, trading would be halted 
automatically and this could cause a global freeze-up of the 
entire global financial system and potentially another 
recreation of the events the led to the Great Depressions three 
generations ago. After grabbing some key numbers from the 
equity, credit and futures markets I breathed a little easier, 
went back to our room and went about my day.
 
Oh, I probably never mentioned before that in this country, save 
in the large metropolitan areas, what they call a hotel we would 
refer to them as a motel in the states. What they call a motel 
would be referred to as a "Love Hotel" in Japan. They rent rooms 
by the hour for lovers. Most of the motels have walls or other 
sight barriers to prevent passersby from seeing whose cars are 
parked there. We have heard that the wives of affluent 
businessmen frequent these motels with their lovers during the 
early part of the day while their husbands are working. We also 
heard that their husbands frequent those same places in the 
afternoon. Unlike in the USA, this country is devoid of the open 
pretense of puritanical attitudes towards sex. In most other 
countries around the world nobody really cares if their married 
politicians are caught in an affair with a member of either sex.
 
The trip to Oaxaca was short and uneventful and we arrived in 
the city at 1:00 PM and then spent nearly an hour navigating 
through busy downtown traffic in this city of more than a 
quarter of a million and trying to find our apartment. Although 
the city is laid out in a good grid system, there are issues 
with finding your way around especially when what you are 
looking for is a narrow one-way alley with cobblestone streets 
and not easily found in part to so many one-way streets, all of 
which seemed to be going in the opposite direction of where we 
needed to go. As it turned out we later discovered that we had 
actually passed within fifty feet of the apartment we rented for 
a month.
 
We unpacked and settled-in into the apartment in very short 
order. It was easy, as we did not bring a lot of stuff with us. 
We had one small airline sized carry-one bag each and a few 
other items in cardboard boxes. While relaxing we met another 
couple of mixed lineage that was renting the apartment next to 
ours. The building has two rental units and the owner's 
residence. The husband and wife were residents of Washington, DC 
with the wife originally from this city. We introduced ourselves 
and then asked if they were going out to dinner that evening and 
if so, could we joining them. 
 
Chris and Lili told us they were going to the Camino Real Hotel 
in town for an Independence Eve dinner celebration that would go 
on until 2:00 AM. The cost of the party with live music, dancing 
unlimited drinks and food was quite reasonable for what you got. 
It is quite remarkable to see  that these people know how to 
have a great time and celebrate special events. We had a 
complete and total blast at their national celebration. We were 
made to feel special by the locals that were at our table. It 
was a grand party and I ran out of gas at somewhere well beyond 
my normal bedtime and we left around midnight. 
 
We walked back to our apartments and got a brief history of the 
area form Lili and she pointed out places were they had part of 
their wedding celebration here five years ago. Chris is 
originally from California. It was good to hit the sheets and we 
slept reasonably well. We were making this apartment our home 
for a month. Later...


Sun. 14 Sept. 2008, Day 13 away from home, day 11 in country:
 
It was not a good night's sleep for either one of us. For me it 
was a recurring mechanical sound that first kept me from falling 
asleep and then it woke me. I had trouble falling asleep after 
writing my bog and Hiroko suggested that it was because my mind 
was stimulated and excited reliving a good day.
 
We got off to a lazy start this morning. We took our time and 
did not check out of the hotel until about 10:30 AM. Our 
destination for the day was the City of Tehuac‡n in the State of 
Oaxaca. It was less than a two-hour drive and it was also less 
than two hours to our final destination of the City of Oaxaca. 
The drive was almost uneventful.
 
We came close to being a statistic this morning. There are many 
drivers that pass when they are not supposed to. We were 
forewarned that there are times when you will have to drive 
partly on the shoulder of the road or become 'toast'. A tandem 
tanker truck was passing where he should not have been and he 
was a good two to three feet into our lane on a two-lane road. 
It was a close call as I shifted to right putting half our car 
on the shoulder and he missed hitting us by less than twelve 
inches. At 120 Km per hour (75 miles per hour), they would have 
picked us up off the road with a squeegee if we had a collision 
with a truck that large at that speed. The rest of the trip was 
uneventful.
 
We found our destined hotel quite by accident. Hiroko was having 
difficulties with the inexpensive magnifying glass we had for 
looking at the small details on the map we had. As we entered 
Tehuac‡n we saw an Office Depot and we pulled in and bought 
another magnifier. On the way out of the store we asked the 
security guard where the hotel we were looking for might be 
found. He walked Hiroko out the front door of the store and 
pointed to a building across the street and down the block and 
said, "There it is" in 
Spanish of course.
 
We asked to see a room to see if it had a/c and look okay. It 
must have been a slow weekend for guests because they had 
someone from housekeeping show us three different room 
configurations. We chose the junior suite and checked in. The 
tariff for the room was 730-Pesos, which is roughly US $72. The 
first thing I did was check out the Internet access. There was 
no signal in the room so I went into the sitting area in the 
atrium. There was a signal, but I could not get a viable 
connection. I tried everything I could think of including using 
different encoding algorithms, but nothing worked. I guess I 
could live without an Internet connection for a second 
consecutive day. The only issue was getting my financial market 
numbers in the morning as it is Monday and the markets are open.
 
After puttering around in the room for a while we hit the road 
to see the town. We parked a few blocks away from the Central 
Plaza 
as I saw a parking space at the curb and I figures in a town of 
more than 100,000 parking might be a problem even if it was a 
Sunday. This town was very typical in some ways and very 
different in others. We were now in the State of Oaxaca. There 
is a higher percentage of native or indigenous peoples here and 
a higher level of people living below the poverty line. Yes, 
there is a direct connection.
 
As it is a Sunday we deduced that the usual merchant stores were 
mostly closed and the streets were lined with vendors in their 
temporary stalls and the place was very busy and bustling. I 
always love to mingle with local people living out their lives 
and trying to pretend that I was not a typical tourist. Were it 
not for the big camera around my neck, I might pull it off when 
my Spanish improves. I can understand a lot more than I can 
speak, but sometimes the locals speak Spanish so fast I cannot 
figure out where one word ends and another begins. 
 
We walked in concentric circles around the Central Plaza looking 
for a restaurant wanting something typical where locals might 
eat, but not anything flashy. Hell, we haven't seen a Norte 
Americano in more than a week (except for a young woman from 
Toronto yesterday)! We settled into a place called Willy's, 
which has been there since 1939. The food was good even though 
the Caesar salad was very different and the pasta was not 
aldentˇ. The chicken soup with rice was great. Both of our 
bodies are still trying to adjust to the radically different 
diets that we are used to and they vacillate between Montezuma 
and the opposite extreme.
 
During lunch I asked our waiter if the town of San Antonio 
Texcula was near or far. It is a village noted for its artisans 
doing stonework with onyx and marble. It is so much fun these 
days conversing with people that do not speak a word of English. 
It is a good feeling to feel like being on the verge of being 
semi-fluent in a new language. The problem with coming across 
with people that speak English is it makes it too easy to revert 
to our native tongues instead of working at communicating in the 
language we are trying very hard to master. We decided to spend 
a week in Oaxaca taking intensive Spanish lessons at a language 
school there. 
 
We made the drive through Tehuac‡n towards San Antonio Texcula. 
We could not help but notice that in only 6 Km the landscape 
changed from lush green to high dessert, cactus and very little 
greenery. It was cute little village and most of the shops had 
virtually the same stuff save one. That is where I got Hiroko a 
beautiful black onyx necklace that she picked out.
 
We made out way to the plaza to look at the church. We think 
every city everywhere should have a plaza where at one end of it 
there resides a church and the opposite side of it has the 
municipal government building. While neither one of us is either 
a Christina or subscribe to any religion (Buddhism is a 
philosophy of living and life rather than a religion) we also 
acknowledge that there are a whole lot of other people that 
think and live differently. To each his own, as they say.
 
On the way back to our hotel I decided I'd like to see the 
inside of a huge bodega (market). It looked like a Costco inside 
with bulk merchandise and regular supermarket stuff. It looked 
like we anywhere other than in a third world country. I will 
forgo talking about my turning into a one way street (going in 
the wrong direction) to get to the bodega. I scared a bunch of 
folks. 
 
We survived my driving, we parked and took a stroll through the 
store. It is not the easiest thing in the world to get used to 
the usual convention in this country of placing signage like 
(one way street markings or street names) on the side of 
building rather than putting signs on poles or posts in 
appropriate and strategic places. Often where there is no 
building on the corner, you will not find a street name.   
 
We made it back to our hotel safely and began to imbibe some 
libation and munch on some of the local treats we accumulated 
along the way today. That is it for today and we are very much 
looking forward to our arrival in Oaxaca tomorrow. 
 
 
Sat. 13 Sept. 2008, Day 12 away from home and day 10 in country:
 
Oh boy did we sleep well last night. It was easy to forget how 
nice it is to have air conditioning in our room. We have been 
without that for the past five nights. Have gotten used to the 
natural a/c of the Bay area on most nights, I have difficulties 
getting a full nights sleep in the places that do not have cool 
evenings and nights. 
 
I woke up refreshed more so than I have in days. Of course, the 
first ting I did in the morning was jump into the laptop and 
take care of a few items. We had tea in our room and ate some of 
the delightful breads, pastries and cookies we purchased in town 
the morning before. Hiroko did without her yoga for the second 
day in a row. We slowly got our act together. I backed-up the 
laptop, a daily ritual, and we were off on another adventure to 
the town of Chulula. I was driving today to Chulula as it was 
only about 20-minutes away and it was, we thought, just the 
sight of some archeological ruins. The map made it look as 
though it was away from the metropolitan area, and it was to 
some extent. 
 
I made only one major wrong turn at the initial stages of the 
drive and backtracked to the right road. We were expecting to 
get to a remote area and see some pyramids just sticking up out 
of the ground with nothing else around as we had seen in the 
past at other sights in Mexico. That was not what we were going 
to find.
 
As we entered the town of Chulula and drove in the direction of 
the Zona Archeologica we saw a Starbucks and pulled over for 
our morning coffee. There were many familiar fast-food 
restaurants brands in the area and within sight of the 
Starbucks. We still did not know how different this place was 
from our expectations. We drank most of our coffee and headed 
out to find the ruins. 
 
We drove through what we thought was this quiet and quaint rural 
town looking for some signs of the ruins. We drove passed the 
big 
church and the central plaza and drove right through the town 
without seeing any signs to direct us to where we wanted to go. 
Sound familiar? We doubled back to a sign I saw along the way 
that might have been the direction we need to go. We passed some 
cows grazing on the grass in a lot downtown and we saw a horse 
drawn cart doing down one of the narrow main streets with a 
burro in tow behind it. 
 
We finally stopped and asked a yond lady for directions and she 
got us pointed in the right direction. The AAA book never 
bothered to mention that the huge church on top of what appeared 
to be a mountain was actually a church built on top of the 
ancient pyramid. As we made our way into the site we heard a 
band playing and marching up the hill to the large church with a 
procession following with a statue of Christ on a platform being 
cried up the sizable hill to the church. Little did we know we 
were in town to watch a special celebration for these people. 
 
We were beyond happy that we made this outing to this area as 
the site far and away exceeded out expectations. The site was 
huge and most of it was as yet unexcavated. There was one wall 
that ran east to west for 300 meters. They would have to tear 
down the church atop the hill to excavate and fully restore the 
ruins and that just is not going to happen, ever. It dawned on 
me why this country was as slow to develop as it did. It took a 
tremendous amount of resources to build the disproportional 
number of churches per capital that we have been seeing in this 
country. Beyond that, it takes a lot of time and money to 
maintain these structures and landscaping that those resources 
were not available for development and utilization for the 
benefit of the people. I could see where it would be difficult 
to find the resources needed to get the standard of living up 
for the native and indigenous Indians here. It has to start with 
education and I don't see enough of that happening where it is 
needed most.
 
As we made it around to the backside of the ruins of a once huge 
pyramid and site we saw many tents and heard music playing and 
saw many people selling their wares along a path that ran along 
side of the ruins As we left the site area we asked one of the 
attendants at one of the entrances to the site if the 
celebration was part of the Independence Day celebration that 
was going to commence in a few days. He said no, that this was a 
town celebration. We soon learned that there were people from 
all around the area that came to sell their wares on the weekend 
and the streets were lined with vendors selling everything you 
can imagine. 
 
We climb up the hill to the church and saw many people attending 
mass in the church and there were people outside the church that 
could not get in, it was that well attended.  From on top of the 
hill we could see that this city was actually part of the urban 
sprawl we have become familiar with in California. The City of 
Puebla is a metropolitan area of over two million and grew right 
out to Chulula. We could also see a shopping street and we spent 
hours walking around town, sampling stuff, but mostly just 
looking, taking pictures, petting dogs and having fun with 
children. 
 
Well, inadequate signage was in play again. I used my 
sense of direction and got us back to the hotel after finding 
ourselves back in the city of Puebla. With a few minor 
backtracks and without benefit of any familiar streets we 
actually made our way back quite easily. Along the way we passed 
many gated residential areas with very modern looking and fairly 
new houses and very attractive attached town homes. This is not 
what we were expecting to see. After we had our fill of the area 
we got back into the car and 
made our way back to the hotel to dump the car with the valet 
and grab a taxi to El Centro in Puebla. It was already after 
2:00 PM. 
 
The taxi dropped us off at the Central Plaza and we were greeted 
by bands playing, costumed dancers doing their thing and many 
people enjoying the free show. There were no hats going around. 
This was simply part of a grand civic celebration that puts 
anything we do in the USA for the July 4th holiday to shame. How 
lucky we are to have come to this country and this city at such 
a special time of the year.
 
We crisscrossed the streets of El Centro taking in as much as we 
could and tried to see what we missed the day before. We saw a 
very attractive restaurant and made mental note of it for dinner 
that evening. We saw their chalkboard menu had Chile en ????, a 
dish this city is famous for and we wanted to have it before we 
left. Hiroko was worried about my now abused tender stomach, but 
I said I was prepared to suffer if I must, but I wanted that 
dish. 
 
We spend an inordinate amount of time looking for a descent 
place to have a good strong cup of coffee. The coffee scene in 
the center of this city is dominated by a place called The 
Italian Coffee Company. Aside from having too many locations in 
a very small area, their coffee was terrible! We stopped at one 
location on the plaza the day before, asked for strong coffee 
and got what was essentially dishwater for this country. In our 
travels we ventured upon another panaderia (bakery) and 
replenished our supplies and got some bottled water. 
 
After we walked as much as we could we found a nice restaurant 
and had some good coffee. It was a place that had caught my eye 
the day before and I had stopped to photograph it so I 
remembered it, but we simple stumbled upon it again after 
searching for what seemed like an hour. We decide over the 
coffee to have an early dinner and go up to the Cinco de Mayo 
plaza atop a hill in town and then go back to the hotel. We 
thought we would simply have the taxi driver take us up there, 
wait for us and then bring us back to the hotel. That plan did 
not last very long. 
 
We also decided over our good coffees that we had our fill of 
walking today. We probably walked over ten miles. We decided to 
go back to the central plaza and do some people watching until 
it was time for our early dinner. We finished our coffee and 
made our way back to the plaza. It was only a few blocks. 
Walking towards the street that is opposite the municipal 
building, which is directly opposite the cathedral, a typical 
arrangement, I saw a yellow Labrador puppy being held by a man 
at the street side of a tour bus parked at the curb. I could 
not resist and went over to first pet and then play with the 
puppy. We both had a good time. Hiroko even got in a few pets. 
 
After my puppy fix we made our way to the area I wanted to be at 
and there was a military band playing in the plaza and municipal 
police standing in two near ranks making ready to march. One of 
the commanders of the group of policia looked at me, with my 
large camera hanging around my neck, with a crossed look 
that made me uncomfortable. I put the camera back into my bag 
and we watched the municipals do their not-very-good marching 
while the military marching band, complete with full camouflage 
battle helmets and fully automatic weapons play military-like 
marching music.
 
All of a sudden there was a silent hush that came over the plaza 
and people began to stand, make civilian salutes as the Mexican 
National Anthem began to play. We stood in respect as everyone 
else in the plaza stood at attention and the police and military 
were at attention and saluting. Hiroko pointed out a guy in the 
plaza sitting and getting a shoeshine, but still sitting at 
attention (sort of) and giving a civilian salute as the military 
lower the national flag. They even stopped the traffic from 
moving by and there was an eerie silence in the plaza except for 
the military band playing.  When the ceremony was over it was 
back to normal for traffic, noise and people doing their thing. 
 
We continued to sit on the metal bench directly opposite the 
municipal building, where they would not let me enter earlier to 
look around, but it did not last much longer. We were thinking 
that perhaps it was time for dinner when two things happened 
almost simultaneously. It began to drizzle a bit and I noticed 
it on the sidewalk. We were sitting under a huge tree and the 
rain had not quite penetrated the canopy yet. The second thing 
was a drunk came along and decided to talk to us and I had very 
little patience for that.  We very politely bid him a pleasant 
evening and made our way to the restaurant. 
 
The dinner was an absolute delight. From the quality of the food 
to the presentation, everything was perfect. Enjoyed a split 
over expensive Spanish wine (I had some after I finished my 
Margarita) and thoroughly enjoyed the meal. During the course of 
the dinner we decided that the Cinco de Mayo plaza was off the 
radar that evening. We would grab a taxi and go back to the 
hotel. 
 
We left the restaurant and immediately found a cab. We asked how 
much to our hotel, agreed to a fair price and we were on our 
way. As we were moving through the city I noticed the driver 
missing the street where he should have turned. I said nothing 
for a few moments until I realized that we were going in the 
wrong direction. I politely told the driver that it looked to me 
that we were going in the wrong direction as we drove through 
the same neighborhood earlier in the day.
 
Sensing I might know what I was talking about the driver pulled 
alongside another taxi from the same fleet asked where our hotel 
was. He then knew we were going to the Fiesta Inn instead of the 
Fiesta Americana. He turned around and we made our way towards 
where we needed to go. I told him I knew how to get to the hotel 
from Avenita 25 Sur (south). After a while I was giving him 
direction and when to turn and where to head. We had a very 
pleasant conversation with the driver (in Spanish) until we 
finally arrived at the hotel. It was another full day and we 
were looking forward to the next and last city we would 
overnight in prior to arriving at our destination of Oaxaca.
 
Hiroko got into bed long before I did and was asleep 
fairly quickly while I did stuff in the room and started to 
write my blog. It was another delightful day in a delightful 
city. 
 
 
 
Fri. 12 Sept. 2008, Day 11 away from home and day 9 in country:
 
We woke up a few times during the night by thunderclaps and 
torrential downpours. The room we were in was supposed to have 
air conditioning. Unfortunately, our definition of a/c was miles 
away from what this establishment provided. With only an 
oscillating fan to circulate the air, we kept the windows open 
to keep the room cool. Oh, there were no screens on the windows 
so some bugs spent the night in our room as I found out in the 
morning. We slept well, but I was up early, as has become 
customary and normal. It was a good thing as the church bells 
started to clang at 5:00 AM. Don't these people sleep? Even the 
chickens were complaining.
 
While I was doing some stuff in the computer Hiroko went to the 
front desk to see about coffee and breakfast. She was told the 
restaurant would open at 9:00 AM and they were in the process of 
reheating the coffee from the night before. I kid you not! Ask 
me if we had any of the coffee available in the hotel?
 
We walk down the street to the nearby Oxxo (pronounced Ox-show- 
they do weird things in this country with the pronunciation of 
Xs) store and got a cup of fresh coffee. We went 
back to the room, packed and got ready to depart the dump we 
were in. It was the first, and hopefully last dump we will stay 
in on this trip.
 
We were grateful that the front desk gave us simple and accurate 
direction to get to our next stop: Puebla, the third largest 
city in Mexico. It was an uneventful drive (thank goodness) and 
managed to stumble right into the hotel driveway of the place 
that we were headed for.  We surrendered our car to the valet 
and checked in. While in the dump the afternoon before we 
decided to go on the net and find a descent room in Puebla. We 
found this place and did a guarantee check-in on the net. 
 
After the dump we left this 5-Star hotel (the Fiesta Americana) 
was like checking into the Taj Mahal. For only $25 per night 
more we were in a luxurious room in a classy hotel. It was a 
good thing we booked on the net, because the rack rate for the 
room posted in the lobby was US $210 (and taxes of 15% not 
included) and we got the room for only US$95 (taxes included) on 
the net. Upon seeing the beautiful hotel lobby I asked the front 
desk if the room was available for a second night. I also said 
I'd prefer a Superior King instead of the superior double I 
booked on the net. We got the King and got it for a second night 
at the same Internet rate.
 
Our room overlooked the golf course and it was clean, quiet and 
spacious. We sort of unpacked, Hiroko did a bit of laundry and I 
check my email. We then headed to the dining room for lunch. We 
had not had a normal meal in over 24-hours and we were in need 
of one. We ordered a salad, some enchiladas and the food was 
really good, albeit a bit pricy for what we had. We soon learned 
that they could make up for the price of the room with the cost 
of amenities and food. It cost US$17 for 24-hours of Internet 
service at a not so "high-speed" connection. I said nothing 
about it except to Hiroko.
 
We went back to our room, threw a few things together and we 
jumped into a taxi and make it downtown to El Centro of this 
delightful old colonial city. Our first stop in town was the 
magnificent archeological museum. We spend quite a bit of time 
there and enjoyed the progression of history, culture of art in 
the region and the comparisons to other cultures around the 
world during the same periods. We were in our element.
 
We left the Museum and we walked and walked and walked. I took 
lots of photos, we window shopped, had coffee at the Plaza 
Principle, we purchased and experienced some local treats and 
especially enjoyed the local breads. There were small 
celebrations going on all over the place. We had a ball, but 
tired ourselves from all the walking. Our stomachs were 
suffering a bit from overeating and not accustomed to what we 
were eating. Such is life.
 
We picked a sidewalk cafˇ for our dinner and the food was good, 
but not especially spectacular. We hailed a cab and asked him 
(in Spanish) what it would cost to get to our hotel. He told us 
40-Pesos and we said okay and jumped in. It cost us 90-Pesos to 
get downtown and we thought this was too good to be true. It 
was.
 
The taxi driver wanted the fare and gave us a price without even 
knowing where our hotel was. We were on the outskirts of town in 
an area of newer upscale and gated communities. When he asked 
another driver within seconds of our getting in where our hotel 
was, he realized he gave us too good of a deal, but said 
nothing. I am not one to take advantage of anyone, so I told the 
driver I would give him more money than what he asked for as 40-
Peses was not enough. He was very pleased with my gesture and 
said "Thank You" in English. A few moments later I asked him of 
70-Pesos was okay with him and he was a very happy camper. We 
all felt good about that interchange. We had an interesting 
conversation in Spanish. I am beginning to get very comfortable 
with the language and learning new vocabulary every day.
 
We got back to the hotel, went to our room and Hiroko showered, 
got into bed and was asleep before long. I sat down at the 
computer and started to bang-out my weekly newsletter. Not too 
long after that I started writing my blog and before I knew it I 
was looking at the clock and it said 1:00 AM. I went to bed and 
fell asleep rather quickly. It was a full and great day. It sort 
of made up for the previous disastrous day.


Thu. 11 Sept. 2008, Day 10 away from home and day 8 in country:
 
The day began about as uneventfully as the one before. Little 
did either one of us know what the day had in store for us. We 
both had a good night's sleep only I got up around 5:00 AM. 
There is one church in this town that begins ringing the bell in 
its tower at 5:30 AM. At 6:00 AM the cathedral begins to clang 
away down the street from our room, so I would be up anyway.
 
It was still dark and I had fallen behind in my blogging, so I 
banged out the past two days while Hiroko slept. I must admit I 
am having fun with the process. Writing for pleasure is much 
different than writing for my newsletters. When I write this, it 
is to please nobody but myself.
 
Hiroko finally woke up, took a shower and then edited my blogs 
before I uploaded it. When I was done I made the coffee run 
while she did her yoga routine. She keeps inviting me to join 
her or do it myself, but that is not my thing just yet.
 
We packed and then went down to have a continental breakfast in 
the hotel restaurant area before hitting the road. Fresh fruit 
and bread was just what I needed. We checked out and left for 
what was supposed to be a three hour drive to the mountain city 
of Cuernavaca. It is an area noted for spas and nice mountains. 
The departure from Morelia was uneventful and we were once again 
driving through lush green rolling hills and picturesque 
valleys.
 
Our route had us driving thorough the heart of Mexico City. I 
probably knew that it was not a great idea to drive through the 
heart of the worlds most densely populated city, but how bad 
could it be just past lunchtime? Well, it was a complete 
nightmare. 
 
Mexico City is undergoing a massive reconstruction project of 
its streets and municipal transportation for the bicentennial 
celebration in 2010. We had no way of knowing the route we had 
planned to take was totally torn up causing major gridlock that 
had us stuck in surface street traffic for three and a half 
hours. One of the problems with driving through Mexico is the 
major highways always go through major cities on the surface 
streets. There is no such thing as a major bypass road like we 
have around virtually every major North American city. 
 
I will leave it as this was hell on earth for both of us. It was 
a day we will never forget as hard as we try. Worse than that, 
when we finally got through the gridlock, back on the 
appropriate route, there was inadequate signage (another major 
driving issue in this country) and we blew right passed our 
turnoff to get to Cuernavaca and did not notice it. I finally 
noticed that the shadows being thrown by the sun implied we were 
headed north and not south.  We pulled into a Pemex station to 
ask directions.
 
Having learned from a prior Pemex experience, we asked if they 
accepted credit cards before we even asked for directions. We 
were told yes and then got directions and filled up the tank. 
When I gave the attendant a perfectly good credit card that was 
used earlier in the day at another station, the attendant came 
back and said the card was declined. I thought that was 
peculiar, 
but gave him another card. He came back shortly thereafter and 
said the second card was declined too. I paid in cash and when 
driving away, I became concerned about the credit card 
situation.
 
A day or two before I heard on CNN that credit card companies 
were slashing credit card limits and canceling cards like crazy. 
Were we going to be in this country for nearly two more months 
with my two major cards useless? As it turned out the station 
must not have wanted to accept credit cards and rigged their 
machine to decline all cards. How was I sure of this? When we 
got to our destination I used the card and it was accepted. The 
bastards!
 
All I will say about the place we stopped at to spend the night 
was that we were out of the car after seven and a half hours. My 
back 
was so tight from the stresses of gridlock traffic that it hurt 
just to breathe. We unpacked the car and I drank a double 
martini and then another while Hiroko drank wine. We carry those 
types of provisions with us in a cooler and in what we call the 
food box. After I finished my drinks I helped Hiroko work on 
that bottle of Cabernet. At least the day from hell was over and 
we slept well.


Wed. 10 Sept. 2008, Day 9 away from home & day 7 in country:

It was a semi-restless nights sleep due the typical big city 
street noises, mega-base car stereos and vehicles in dire need 
of a new muffler sitting at a traffic signal just below our 
window. My sleep was interrupted several times during the night 
but each time I managed to fall back asleep. Much to my surprise 
I found myself being awakened by Hiroko at just before 8:00 AM. 
We had much to do before our tour guide was supposed to pick us 
up at the hotel for our tour of the region.
 
I got into my usual morning routine with the computer while 
Hiroko made a coffee run to the cafˇ around the corner. Things 
are running quite smoothly on the road these days much to my 
surprise. We have had no major surprises with the exception of a 
lack of air conditioning in our habitaci—n for the last several 
days. Okay, so we are learning as we go. We have come to expect 
a/c in rooms over the years in our travels around the world and 
never gave a thought to rooms not having any. Part of the reason 
for this is we have been staying in typical and authentic 18th 
century structures and it must be extraordinarily difficult to 
retrofit these buildings with a/c. Also, it is not that hot in 
Morelia or in Guadalajara due to the higher elevations. It does 
cool down in the evenings, but I have become completely 
accustomed to the natural evening refrigeration in the Bay Area. 
At home all we need in the evenings is to open the window and 
get nice fresh cool air.
 
The driver was late in picking us up and it was likely not his 
fault. The main street that runs in front of our hotel was 
closed for what we believe was to be a parade that day. When we 
were greeted by Rodrigo I was surprised at how good his English 
language skills were. We were the last "pick-up" of the day for 
Rodrigo. The Chevy eight-passenger van was completely full when 
we got into it. We were the only English-as-our-first-language 
persons in the van. I often forget that Hiroko's first language 
is Japanese and that makes for some interesting attempts by her 
of making the rolling "R" sound that is important in the Spanish 
language. She has been practicing that without success so far. 
 
One of the first things Rodgiro said to us after we boarded the 
van was that we were going to stop at the city of Quiroga for a 
while.  He told us this was a city of merchants distributing the 
crafts of locals that were not made by them. The first thing I 
thought of was, Oh oh, here we go with the usual routine we 
became familiar with in Asia of drivers being paid by merchants 
to bring tourists there. Fortunately, that was not the case. We 
had a bit of difficulty in getting into the "Centro" area 
because of a parade going on. WE got out of the van and asked to 
return in one hour. 
 
The first thing we did was to seek out the best looking bananas 
in the area where we parked. The streets and alleys were lined 
with merchant stalls selling mostly fish, meat and produce. I 
made the choice of which two bananas to buy and of course I 
asked the merchant if I could take her photo and she agreed. We 
took a short walk to the corner to watch the parade while eating 
our bananas making notice of a sidewalk bread vender that had 
great looking bread. I decided that rather than carry the bread 
around for an hour we'd buy some on our return to the van since 
it was so close to where it was parked. 
 
As we walked down the street everyone there immediately knew we 
were not locals or even Mexicans and it was not just because of 
the large digital camera hanging around my neck. We just dressed 
differently from everyone else. I did not mind standing out in a 
crowd.
 
The Parade was a celebration of the renaming of the town about 
150 years ago and there were children marching for as far as the 
eye could see in both directions going down the main street of 
Quiroga.  The narrow sidewalks were congested with people 
proudly watching the children march in formation with their 
banners, flags and a sprinkling of marching bands mixed in. In a 
way it reminded me of parades back in the states. 
 
When we had our fill of the parade we made our way through the 
back streets and took notice of the people, their homes, the 
shops the locals frequent for their goods and the architecture. 
It was a nice hour spent in that small town and we were rolling 
again.  Next stop: Tzintzuntzan. 
 
Tzintzuntzan (a real tongue twister) was the site of a tribe of 
warriors and crafts people. Quite a unique combination I 
thought. There was a monument to them in a plaza across the way 
from the hillside pyramid that was in the process of being fully 
restored and it was well on its way towards completion. The 
monument was in the middle of a serene park and had two churches 
the remains of an old convent and manicured grass, trees and 
walkways. We spent about an hour there, got a history lesson and 
relished in the beauty of the two churches. We were done with 
our touring of this site and were ahead of the others, so we 
took the opportunity to sit on a bench under a tall shade tree 
along side the hand-set stone broad walkway leading to and away 
from the main church. I took the opportunity to lie down on the 
grass and do a back stretching routine and preventative 
maintenance. We have a long way to drive before reaching Oaxaca 
and I did not want any back issues to pop up.
 
Waiting at the van for the other members of the group to arrive 
we strolled through a market of handcrafts and we watched some 
of the locals hand decorate pi–atas and make other things like 
very unique Christmas decorations. Walking back to the van I got 
an interesting answer to a question I asked Rodrigo about why 
the USA and Mexico were developed at such different paces. His 
explanation was concise and so obvious I am sorry I did not 
think it through before asking the question. It had to do with 
the US and Canada being colonies of the British and it was the 
Brits that started the industrial revolution and brought it to 
North America.
 
We were off again. Next stop: The Lake. This is a very large 
lake that appeared to be an ancient caldera. Rodrigo told us 
that this region has four earthquakes a day and it is very 
seismically active. I sensed that and knew how close we were to 
Mexico City and remember seeing the remnants of a devastating 
quake the last time we were in Mexico City.
 
The group boarded a boat for the well-known Island (Ilsa De 
Janitzio)in the middle of the lake that looked like the lava 
plug in the middle, but not center, of the lake. There were 
three islands in the lake and Rodgiro told me that only members 
of the particular tribe that first settled the island were 
allowed to live there. That bit of information was in response 
to one of my many questions asked of Rodrigo. He knew his 
history of the region quite well and was a very effective 
communicator. I'll have to share his contact information with 
people on my website as he was that good.
 
Just before the boat left the dock three Mariachi singers with 
their instruments (a base, a guitar and an accordion) boarded 
the boat. They serenaded us and then passed the hat. I tossed in 
whatever the other folks did. The water in the lake was very 
muddy everywhere. Considering the amount of rain we had 
experienced on our drive to Morelia and the downpour while we 
were passing the lake it was no surprise to see the lake looking 
as though there was a lot of clay in the runoff water and before 
you knew it we were on the island.
 
At the summit of the island was a monument and museum that could 
be clearly seen from a long way off. Little did we know we were 
about to climb to the top of the mountain and then to the top of 
the tower/monument called the Museo Morelos. We got more than 
our needed exercise first climbing the mountain and then the 
inside of the tower. The view was great, but we did not linger 
at the top for very long. We traversed back down to the boat 
dock once again running the gauntlet of merchants bidding us to 
come in and try their wears, sample their fried fish or have a 
seat at a table for a drink or a meal.
 
It began to drizzle a bit while the boat returned to its 
starting point. We were without the accompaniment of the 
Mariachi boys this time. I spent most of the return trip talking 
with Rodrigo about the economy, history and culture of the 
region. When we got back into the van Hiroko declared aloud for 
all to hear (so out of character for her), "Vamos a comer" and 
everyone in the van laughed.  She said, "lets go to lunch". I 
was very please to see her out of her normal quiet self-imposed 
shell. 
 
We arrived in the picturesque city of Patzcuaro. They did like 
using the letter "Z" in town names. We had a nice group lunch at 
a hotel restaurant on the sidewalk table protected by the 
overhang in the secondary plaza of this town of red and white 
buildings. After lunch we had about an hour to stroll the town 
and we did. The only things we bought were some locally made 
"artesania" chocolate and something at the pharmacy to calm my 
roaring stomach. We won't go there.
 
We were expecting the tour to last for six hours because that is 
what the hotel front desk told us.  It turned out to be a very 
full ten-hour tour and we were a bit tired when we got back to 
the hotel.  We relaxed for a while, I jumped into the computer 
and checked to see what the financial markets did that day and 
then we went in search of a good salad for dinner. Having lunch 
at 4:30 PM to 5:00 PM we thought we did not leave very much room 
in our stomachs for much more than that. 
 
We found a nice sidewalk cafˇ within one block of the hotel 
where we were staying. We had a pleasant dinner and I was very 
tired and ready to return to the room. How tired was I? When our 
waiter brought us the check I gave him our electronic room key 
instead of my credit card to pay for the meal.
Hiroko was asleep before long while my fingers danced across the 
computer keyboard writing my daily blog. I turned in earlier 
than I did the night before. To be continued...


Tue. 9 Sept. 2008, Day 8 away from home & day 6 in country:

It was another night of pharmaceutical induced sleep in our room 
in Guadalajara as the lack of air conditioning and inadequate 
air circulation left me no options if I wanted to get some sleep 
so I could drive safely in the morning as we were making ready 
to navigate to our next stop at Morelia. I neglected to mention 
before that each morning in the Trucadero Suites we were greeted 
by a serenade of doves cooing in the courtyard outside our room. 
It was perfectly delightful. 
  
We took our time this morning and packed at a leisurely pace. I 
managed to sleep until 7:00 AM this morning. It was about 9:30 
AM that we made our way to Villa Ganz to retrieve our car and 
get it back to Trucadero Suites to load it up and complete our 
check-out. The treatment we received from the staff at Villa 
Ganz could be a template for any and all lodging facilities on 
how to make customers feel special. Aside from being offered 
anything and everything we wanted (save the incredibly beautiful 
young lady trainee with classic European features) we were also 
given precise and simple guidance on how to navigate out of this 
large city. 
  
It was a relatively short hop to Morelia and it would have been 
a breeze were it not for the intermittent torrential downpours 
that visited us along the way. It was easy for us to see why 
this region of the country is lush and green. The roads were 
virtually traffic free once we got out of the center of 
Guadalajara until we got to close to "Centro" Morelia. Traffic 
congestion was terrible even though this is the "off season" 
here. I'll try to avoid talking about the high curb and the very 
tight turn that I did not navigate well enough and I cringed at 
the grinding sound of our car and the high curb. Considering we 
did not know precisely where we were going and the bottlenecked 
traffic congestion, it was somewhere between frustrating and 
irritating, but we somehow managed to find our way to our 
destined hotel in this city of more than half a million people. 
  
In this beautiful and quaint old colonial city there is a 
paucity of parking spaces. We had to park in a garage down the 
street from our hotel and a bellman came to the garage and 
assisted us with our stuff. The check-in to the Hotel Cathedral 
was easy and the room overlooking the principle plaza and the 
majestic cathedral was like something out of a storybook.  
  
After settling into the room we quickly went on an unplanned 
tour of the historic district. We soon found ourselves getting a 
guided tour of a primary and secondary school by a delightfully 
pleasant and considerate woman. We stopped to admire the carved 
doors at the entrance of the school and before we knew it we 
were ushered inside and given a "Royal Treatment" tour of the 
place. During the tour the woman that extended this completely 
unexpected courtesy showed us the restoration work done to the 
building housing the schools and she lamented at how money was 
always an issue there. It was not a solicitation at all, but 
simply a statement of fact. At the end of the tour the woman's 
jaw dropped when I asked her if we could make a contribution to 
the school on behalf of the children (that we never got to see 
as it was passed the end of the school day). Yes, that whole 
interchange felt great for all of us. 
  
Unlike the way I usually ignore beggars in other countries or in 
the USA, I felt a need to give money to some, but not all, 
beggars on the street. The young and the able were off my radar 
screen. I felt the need to give to some of the elderly and 
infirm people that simply had their hand out without asking for 
anything. The young, the able and the aggressive were off my 
radar screen. 
  
After we walked all around (and fatigued my shutter finger), 
including the university campus here (the oldest institution of 
higher education in this country) we had a cup of good coffee a 
Lillians's Cafˇ next to the university campus and then returned 
to our room. Once again we found ourselves in a room without air 
conditioning and it was considerably noisier than we would have 
preferred. Such is life. We will never again get locked into a 
room without a/c. After "chilling out" for a while we walked 
around the corner and had dinner.  
  
After dinner we went back to the room. Hiroko jumped into the 
shower while I went out to do some nighttime shooting of the 
historic district where we were staying. I'll refrain from going 
beyond saying I was flattered to be "hit on" by two "working 
girls" in the "parque (park) principal" across the street from 
our hotel and next to the magnificent cathedral that is the 
focal point of this city. 
  
Being right on the main street of this city also meant traffic 
and noise. Having taken a sleeping pill for two consecutive 
nights, I was averse to taking another one this night. The last 
thing in the world I need is to develop a dependency on drugs to 
go to sleep. I opted to try to use the earplugs I brought along 
on the trip and tough it out. The plugs were uncomfortable and 
they did not stay in very long. I finally fell asleep after 
doing my meditative breathing exercises and repeated them each 
time I was rudely awakened by the outside noises. There are 
always compromised and trade-offs one must make in their journey 
through life and downtown inner city hotels might be off our 
radar screens for a while. Later... 


Mon. 9/8/08, Day 7 away from home & day 5 in country:

It was nice getting up at what I thought was 7:00 AM (to be 
explained later) and not having to think about repacking the car 
and hitting the road again as we have every morning since 
leaving home. We did our typical leisurely morning routines and 
grabbed a couple of scones (I baked two batches or currant 
scones at home the day before we left for road survival food) 
out of the food bag and had them with some of the weak ass 
coffee you typically get from in-room hotel coffee makers.  
  
I spent some time doing my computer things between backing up, 
writing and posting to the travel blog and other such stuff 
while Hiroko was planning our day's outing into town. Prior to 
heading down to El Centro (downtown) we walked up the street to 
get a good cup of coffee at Starbucks. Unlike what we are 
accustomed to in the USA, the Starbucks here are ultra modern 
and very large. I was surprised at just how large they are in 
this country. They even accommodate the patrons with special 
areas where you can sit and work on your laptop and plug in your 
charger. Also very unlike in the states, they provide free WiFi 
Internet access. It may be slow, but free is free. 
  
Finishing our coffee we headed back to our room, gathered the 
stuff we needed and headed out for the day's adventure. We 
grabbed a taxi and made our way to El Centro and passed through 
typical residential then commercial zones. The closer we got to 
El Centro the more concentrated the retail stores and the great 
the traffic. After sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for a few 
minutes we asked the driver how close we were to the plaza. When 
he told us it was only a few blocks to the plaza we told him we 
would get out and walk and paid him. 
  
The population of Mexico's second largest city is 1.6 million, 
but to my eyes, the magnitude of the center of the city with the 
grand cathedral, pedestrian only streets and public buildings, 
restaurants, shops and the music conservatory was 
disproportional. We walked and looked and looked and walked. Of 
course my shutter finger was getting a lot of exercise snapping 
pictures of all sorts of things. I particularly enjoyed 
strolling through the atrium listening at music oozing out of 
the windows and walls of the very beautiful eighteenth century 
colonial style building. Upon entering I asked if it was okay to 
enter and look around. I was told we could look around on the 
ground floor only and were not allowed to go upstairs.  Of 
course, I took some pictures of young people totally engrossed 
in practicing their art. They were so engrossed that I 
was virtually invisible to them, which made my taking photos 
easier.  
  
We stopped in the government's Office of Tourism to ask some 
questions about distances to places, maps of the area and 
general information which was quickly and graciously provided.  
We were there to get a flavor of the place and not see 
everything, so after we had our fill of commercialism we began 
looking for a suitable place to have lunch. We found a nice 
outdoor cafˇ with an appealing menu and were very rapidly 
ushered to a table. Soup and salad was very appealing to us. 
Wayne, the guy from Ohio, told us Mexico has come a long way and 
not to worry too much about eating salads in better restaurants. 
We gave it a go, again after having salad the night before. The 
soup was very tasty clear broth with fine noodles that looked 
and tasted like vermicelli. The carne (meat) in the soup was 
very chewy and could have been cabeza (look it up).  After lunch 
we walked through the remainder of the vehicle free zone (save 
some motorbikes that were driving there for some reason) to grab 
a taxi and go to an area called Tlaquepaque, an arts and crafts 
section of town. During our stroll we came across some dude 
dressed in a silver outfit and even had his skin painted silver. 
He reminded us of someone we saw in Buenos Aires doing the same 
type of routine trying to get tips from tourists. I doubt if the 
locals give him a second look. It was a few minutes later that 
we saw him on his motorbike in the same area. 
  
Walking the streets trying to hail a taxi we came upon a 
panaderia (bakery) that pulled us in by our nostrils. We got a 
tiny crescent shaped white bread (great), and oblong small loaf 
with some whole grain in it (with a nice hint of sweetness) and 
half a dozen cookies. We were set for breakfast the following 
morning. Just down the street form this panaderia was a small 
church with a clock in this small bell tower. We noticed the 
time on the clock was an hour later than we thought it was. We 
asked a local pushcart vendor if the time on the clock was 
correct and we were told it was. We must have crossed into the 
central time zone when we traveled eastward to Guadalajara. We 
moved our wristwatches ahead an hours, grabbed a cab and were on 
our way again. 
  
Tlaquepaque is within the city limits of Guadalajara, but is a 
world unto itself. The shops were upscale and I commented that 
we could have been in La Jolla, CA for all the art galleries and 
upscale boutiques and shops.  Hiroko comments that if we moved 
to this town this is where she would go shopping for furniture. 
The taxi dropped us off in front of the focal point of the area, 
which was a huge building with more than a dozen different 
restaurants sharing the same structure that was built around an 
atrium. It reminded me of the restaurant area within the public 
market in Santiago, Chile.  
  
As has normal on most trips, I was mesmerized by the period 
architecture, the meticulous renovations and reconstruction to 
the buildings.  The colorful and picturesque building facades of 
the high-end shops gave my shutter finger a lot of exercise. So 
did the people and the locals. In particular was this delightful 
young girl that gave me permission to take her picture.  After I 
snapped her photo I showed it to her and to her parents, who 
approved of it. 
  
We wore ourselves out window shopping and finally grabbed a 
bottle of ice cold water in a 7-11 at the plaza and we sat and 
drank for a while watching the locals go by. While sitting there 
we could not help but notice an old man brushing his teeth right 
on the plaza. I guess the "modern world" is not the only place 
with street people. It is a universal problem? 
  
We hopped back into a taxi after quenching our thirst and 
relaxed a bit before deciding on having dinner at Boca-21 again. 
Without trying to sound uppity or snooty, we enjoy going where 
the local go to eat. Get ripped off at some shi-shi place with 
overblown prices when all we really wanted to eat was basic 
healthy food. We ordered ensalada mixto (your basic mixed green 
salad) and stir fried veggies. Both were good and the price was 
right. Besides, it was a short walk from our habatici—n. 
  
I fought through the urge to go to sleep early and wound up 
awake at midnight. I played with photos, I blogged and I read. I 
ate an Ambien and I was gone and as I went down I recalled some 
of the pleasant events of the completion of our first week on 
the road.

Sun. 9/7/08. Day 6 away from home & day 4 in country:

Got an early start this morning. I actually slept until almost 
7:00 AM. Yes, if I can borrow a saying from the 60's, "Better 
Living Through Chemistry." That sleeping pill did precisely what 
it was supposed to. After waking up, we did our usual morning 
routine, packed and went down to have some coffee in the hotel 
lobby overlooking the beach and ocean.  It was such a tranquil 
and peaceful setting that I was moved to write a poem and a 
Haiku. I may or may not share that with whoever might be reading 
this running rant of our trip.  
  
We packed the car and checked out of the hotel at about 9:00 AM. 
We stopped at the nearby Oxxo for our morning bag of ice for the 
cooler as we headed back to our beloved Highway 15. On the way 
we stopped at the first Pemex station to tank up. It was right 
down the road from the hotel and Oxxo. While the attendant was 
filling the tank (there is no such thing as self service in this 
country) I noticed what I thought was the best looking 
convenience store I have ever seen anywhere. There was a banner 
outside promoting wine and since Hiroko had already started her 
last bottle of wine that be brought from home.  
  
We walked around the store looking for wine, but could only find 
hard liquor on the shelves. Suddenly I noticed a full-blown wine 
cellar - no shit - fully stocked with hundreds of bottles of 
premium wines at not-so premium prices. My mind immediately 
reverted to the prior evening when we went into a convenience 
store on the hotel row called Calle Camrones.  They were asking 
206 Pesos for a mediocre bottle of low-end Chilean wine. We 
bought two really good bottles of wine; one from Chile and one 
from Argentina and the total came to only 189 Pesos. The moral 
of the story: Don't get ripped off at tourist traps.  
  
We hit the road and were again and had a lot of difficulties 
getting out of Mazatlan. This country is not the best when it 
comes to putting up street sighs so you know where you are. They 
also do not do a very good job of giving directional signs. We 
came across a road closure for repairs on Highway 15 running 
through the streets of Mazatlan. Yes, there are super highways, 
but they also run right through the downtown of many cities. 
Perhaps the merchants have sway with the politicians. Sound 
somewhat familiar? It is good for business for a 110 Km per hour 
highway to suddenly run into downtown where you can stop and 
shop if you want to get from major city to major city. Anyway, 
there were no direction signs on how to traverse around the 
closure and find the highway again, but I somehow managed. 
  
We were reminded of the drug wars with the military checkpoints 
although the further we got from the USA the less frequently 
they appeared. We drove to and stopped in the town of Tepic, 
which is the capital of the State of Nayarit. Tepic was yet 
another place I liked. It was a working class town that held no 
attraction for tourists, which is probably the draw for me. I am 
always interested in see how the people live and work. Tepic, 
like many other cities we have seen on this trip, is going 
through a major construction and renovation period. Once again 
we were challenged by the inadequacy of the directional signs 
in this town. We were looking for "Centro Historico" of the old 
section of town. We took the turn as indicated, but then we were 
greeted with a "T" section and no signs to give us a clue of 
where to go. At a stop signal I rolled down my window and tried 
to ask the driver in the pickup truck next to me for directions.  
Just my luck the only person I asked for direction was totally 
deaf and could not hear what I was asking of him. Needless to 
say I found my way to our destination. We visited the seat of 
government here, the church in the Historic District, watched 
people enjoying their Sunday and then we were off again. I was 
on a mission to make it all the way to Guadalajara, 
so our visit to Tepic was just long enough to get a flavor of 
the place. Hiroko did not like the place. 
  
I cannot escape the conclusion that the Great American Empire is 
in a rapid state of decline while our neighbor to the South 
seems to be in a rapid state of improving economic prosperity 
and affluence. How sad that we let political acrimony and 
ideological demagoguery prevent our government from doing 
anything meaningful beyond destroying our economy and future 
with a senseless pair of wars that we cannot possibly win. The 
Shia and the Sunnis have been killing each other for more than 
two thousand years without a decisive conclusion anywhere in 
sight. What are we thinking? 
  
As we approached the Guadalajara area we came upon the town of 
Tequila. Yes, that is the home of the drink and I did not know 
until today that 
other areas can produce alcohol from the Agape plant, but nobody 
else can call it Tequila. We walked around the old town briefly, 
but were run off by a thunderstorm. We will be spending at least 
a few days in this area, so we will be back. 
  
Just as we approached the outskirts of Guadalajara the sky 
opened up and a torrential downpour hit us. I've been through a 
few major storms in my time, but they usually abate before long. 
This one didn't. Heavy rains, lightning and thunder and hail. We 
even found ourselves driving through some flash flooding caused 
by the storm. It was a wild scene.  Somehow, without a street 
map and little to navigate by we managed to find the cute 
little six-room lodging facility we were looking for in the 
second largest city in Mexico. With lots of courage and luck we 
not only found this small place.

We got lucky in spades. Not only did we find the place, but when 
we rang the bell for assistance at the gate someone poked his 
head out of the front window and asked what we wanted. I asked 
in my best Spanish if there was a room available for us. He 
instantly recognized I was a North American and began to 
speaking to me in perfect English. He told me the place 
was comfortable, very clean and reasonably priced. He directed 
us to a sister facility up the street to register and get a 
room, if one was available. It was and we did.

Parking is always a big problem in any major city and this place 
is no exception. There are only five parking spaces for the six 
rooms and we were the odd persons out. We had to park at the 
sister facility some eight blocks away and walk to our place.  
It was the same place where we registered for our room. I needed 
the exercise after so many days of driving and not having enough 
exercise and "munching" while driving. I have a feeling I will 
not be the same lightweight at 172 pounds when I get home, but I 
have not been on a scale yet.

It turns out that Wayne, the guy at the Trucadero Executive 
Suites that we met earlier, is from Cleveland, OH. He gave us a 
recommendation for a local restaurant that was a close walk away 
from out hotel. He told us the name of the place was Bistro-21 
and where I was. We still had the car as we just unloaded it and 
drove to the restaurant before parking it at the secured parking 
at the other facility. It was a good thing he told us precisely 
where the restaurant was because the name is Boca-21, not 
Bistro-21. It was a very hip spot that is frequented by young 
people. We were by far the oldest ones in the place. We had a 
dinner of salad and paella, wine and OJ. 

After parking we walked the eight blocks or so back to 
Trucadero, got situated in the room and called it a day. The 
only thing about the room we neglected to ask was if it had air 
conditioning, and it did not, which made it a bit warmer than 
we'd prefer. Just to be sure I got a good night's sleep, I took 
another pill. Stay tuned.

Sat. 9/6/08:

Well, my strategy of staying up as late as I could in an effort 
to sleep passed 4:00 AM did not work. This morning I put the 
time 
to good use writing the blog of yesterday's events. Hiroko woke 
up at just after 4:00 while I was busily typing away at the 
laptop and she asked me what time it was. I told her and then 
suggested she go back to sleep. In an instant she was asleep 
again. I am jealous. At 5:30 AM there was someone on the grounds 
of the hotel loudly  clanking away at some type of mechanical 
bell. He rang the hell out the damn thing and did it again at 
5:45 AM I haven't got a clue what that was all about. We are 
going to get an early start today in the hopes of making it all 
the way to Mazatlan. 
  
While packing the car for the next leg of the journey my 
curiosity about where the people staying at the hotel might be 
from I walked around the parking lot (after giving the rest of 
The tuna to the very friendly and appreciative kitten) and 
discovered we were the only folks from the USA with a vehicle in 
the hotel parking lot. I had a typical Oacxacan (at least that 
is how the hotel restaurant billed the sunny-side up eggs with 
hot sauce. My digestive track told me what it thought of that 
meal later on during the day. As we checked out of the hotel we 
had an unexpected surprise. We were already one hour behind our 
schedule. We had no clue that the time in the State of Sinaloa 
is different than it was in Sonora. One normally expected to see 
time changes going from east to west or visa versa, but not 
north to south. So be it.  
  
My suspicions about Sinola being an agricultural based economy 
was confirmed when I toured the parking lot of the hotel. The 
logo of the state proudly displayed on every license plate on 
every vehicle in this state is a big red tomato! We stopped for 
ice at the nearest Oxxo Store (like the 7-11 in the USA and the 
rest of the world) and stopped for gas at the Pemex station at 
the highway junction. We do not have to check on the prices of 
fuel at the Pemex stations. The price at these government owned 
stations are the same everywhere. We could probably save a few 
bucks here and there buying an off brand, but the consistency of 
quality and octane are more important to us than the money.  
  
Longing for the Hassle Free Zone, we were repeatedly confronted 
with military roadblocks on our non-stop trek to Mazatlan. We 
arrived there at 2:00 PM checked into the hotel and did some 
busy work in the room before venturing out to check the old part 
of town in the blazing heat. The humidity at this beach resort 
was making the relatively tame temperatures seem more intense 
than they were in a mathematical context. We left our car at the 
hotel and took the Mazatlan version of the Tuk-Tuk. We walked 
the delightfully pleasant plaza with its quaint restaurants 
nestled in centuries old buildings. We visited the magnificent 
cathedral, walked the great public market and decided to see 
just how far we could walk back towards the hotel in the muggy 
heat. We got more than half way and at nearly 7:00 PM we jumped 
into a Tuk-Tuk and beat it back to the hotel and hung out for a 
while as I uploaded the photos I downsized while Hiroko shared 
the five hour drive down here. 
  
We walked down the street running parallel to the beach where 
our ocean view room was situated on Avenita Camarones (shrimp) 
until we found a descent-looking restaurant that served 
camarones. I had reservations about eating because my digestive 
track was rumbling. I decided to have something with an overdose 
of garlic and that seemed to do the trick in calming my stomach 
down (no Montezuma). We ate, we left and we went back to the 
hotel shortly before 10:00 PM. My clothes were major 'stinko' 
and needed washing. I had what I thought was a cleaver approach 
to washing both my clothes and myself. I travel with high-tech 
fabric clothes that are rapid dry that you wash in your room in 
the evening and they are dry and good to go less than six hours 
later. That is how I can pack all my clothes into a very small 
suitcase that I use as a carry-on bag when raveling by 
commercial airlines to avoid checking in baggage. Instead of 
wash and wear, it was wear and wash this evening.  I went into 
the shower with all my clothes on (shoes excluded) and washed 
and rinsed them first and them washed myself.  
  
Somehow I managed to stay awake until 11:00 PM tonight. I will 
probably sleep passed 4:00 AM without assistance, but I am not 
taking any chances. I am taking a pill and going down for the 
count. Later! 


Fri. 9/5/08:

It was another day of awakening at 4:00 AM. This routine is 
getting old. I have no idea why my body will not sleep passed 
this 
early hour. I wake up rested and have no problem sleeping. Since 
Hiroko sleeps longer than I do I spent time reading the Obama 
book, "The Audacity of Hope." I defy anyone to read this book 
and not like this guy. He is not only defining what he feels is 
wrong with the body politic (taking aim at both Democrats and 
Republicans), but also talks of the need for an end to 
demagoguery and "absolutism" that has become pervasive in 
Washington in the past decade and a half.

I woke up very hungry and was concerned that it might be a 
consequence of my very first meal in country. I had a delicious 
Cabeza taco with lettuce on it in a small restaurant that is 
probably only frequented by locals. I thought better of eating 
it momentarily, then woofed it down. My suspicions turned out 
to be correct, but not for me. Hiroko also had a taco and she 
awakened with a companion: Montezuma. Fortunately, I was 
prepared for most eventualities on this trip and packed 
everything I could think of, including something to relieve 
travelers stomach issues. It worked for her and I did not need 
it.

After breakfast (typical western style orange juice, ham and 
eggs, toast and a cup of hot water) we packed and I drove to the 
store to buy some ice for our cooler and some Pringles chips to 
replenish the salt my body has been losing with all the sweating 
I have been doing. We packed the car and checked out of the 
motel and 10:00 AM.

For the entire time we were in San Carlos we made the 
observation that this place is a Cabo San Lucas 'wanna-be' 
place. Maps show of all the sites owned by developers. Resorts 
and CondoTels are under construction in several places. It will 
be about a quarter century before the place becomes fully 
developed like Cabo, so if you have the time and the money, this 
might a good long-term investment opportunity. We marveled at 
some of the luxurious homes in the area. We did a swing through 
the town and adjacent development sites and were headed down the 
road again.

We decided to stop and stroll through the nearby town of 
Guyamas. Once again we were completely surprised by this 
thriving modern port city. We could not help but notice again 
that the streets have been devoid of litter and trash wherever 
we have been so far. Modern stores and buildings lined even the 
old section of town and we were duly impressed. When we parked 
the car down at the harbor and got out to take a stroll the heat 
took our breath away. It was not meant to be a very long walk at 
all. After about thirty minutes we were desperate to get back 
into the car and put the air conditioner on full blast. We did 
and headed down the road again.

Ever since we crossed the boarder from Arizona we have been 
traveling on Highway 15. We will be on this road for about a 
week as we will be taking this road all the way to Mexico City 
and we will be making many side trips off the main highway to 
places of interest. Ever since we entered Northern Mexico we 
began to see roadside signs declaring that for the next roughly 
300 miles we would be in a "Hassle Free Zone" for USA vehicles. 
We thought it was cute and did not give it much thought until we 
got to the end of the Hassle Free Zone. Within one hundred yards 
there was a military checkpoint. You may have heard or read 
about the government doing battle with the drug lords in 
Northern Mexico. Well, the first military checkpoint just south 
of Guymas was nothing more than a uniformed military dude with a 
side-arm politely asking where we were headed. After telling him 
we were headed to Oaxaca he wished us a pleasant trip in perfect 
English and waived us onward. The rest of the military 
checkpoints were anything but polite.

Clearly the Mexican government has a drug lord problem on its 
hands. The second military checkpoint was manned by many 
soldiers in full battle dress, combat helmets, probably Kevlar 
bullet-proof vests under their uniforms (the bulkiness 
was clearly visible) and fully automatic weapons everywhere. 
There were battlefield like bunkers constructed of sandbags 
right in the middle of the damn road and it was a bit 
unsettling. I almost felt like I was driving through 
Iraq. When we got to the border that separates the States of 
Sonora and Sinaloa the military presence was downright 
frightening. ON the other side of the road there were what 
seemed like hundreds of tractor-trailer trucks lined up waiting 
to be inspected by fully armed combat ready soldiers probably 
looking for either contraband or drugs. Boy, are we glad we were 
not chosen to go through a total inspection. We now appreciate 
what was meant by the signage "Hassle Free Zone." We will 
definitely not come back through this checkpoint on the trip 
home, as the time to get through the checkpoint northbound has 
to be hours instead of minutes.

Going from Sonora to Sinaloa is more like traveling into a 
different country than into another State of this country. 
Sonora was obviously and industrial and commercial based economy 
with a sizable middle-class and clear signs of prosperity 
everywhere. It was quite obvious to us that the standard of 
living in this state is rapidly approaching that of many places 
in the USA. Yes, we were quite surprised at this. The same could 
not be said for Sinaloa. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that 
there are many areas where there are frequent speed bumps 
in the road to get you to go very slowly or break your car's 
axels. These speed bumps have become a "selling opportunity" for 
locals trying to 'hawk' whatever they think travelers and locals 
might want to buy. We saw everything from bread to pastries to 
music CDs to candy and just plain junk being sold. What I did 
not appreciate was the constancy of people trying to wash your 
windshield for you when you stopped at red lights in the cities. 
Some of them would go away when you waved them off and shook 
your head no. Others were quite persistent and I found that 
turning on the windshield wipers was an effective deterrent. At 
one light three teenagers came rushing at the car trying to 
clean our already clean front windshield and the wiper blades 
deterred them momentarily before they started to wash the 
headlights and they would not accept my wave offs and then asked 
for money. Fortunately, the light turned green and we were on 
our way again with dirty headlight covers. At that stop signal I 
wish I had a Mercedes with headlight washers and wipers. The 
State of Sinaloa, from what we have seen so far is an Agrarian 
based economy. It was not as clean or as appealing at least in 
the initial stages of our travels through the state. We did not 
stop anywhere, save the frequent toll-booths and occasional 
military checkpoints, until we reached our destination for 
the day in a town called Los Mochis. It is another well-
developed large town bustling with traffic and people busily 
trying to do their thing. There really is little for tourists to 
see here. 

We got to the hotel we intended to stay at and I was so proud of 
myself at going to the registration desk and asking if they had 
an available "habitaci—n" for us for the night. When asked I 
responded that it was for a single room for two people for one 
night only. I then asked if there was Internet inside the rooms 
as there were computers hooked up to the net in the lobby of the 
hotel. The response was affirmative and I checked in. My 
pleasure with myself was that I did the entire process is 
Spanish. It felt good to be able to speak their language in 
their country.

After checking into our room and unloading what was necessary 
from the car I immediately began to jump into producing my 
weekly newsletter. If you have not yet figured out that writing 
is something I enjoy, doing my newsletters is not something I 
consider work. It is more a labor of love. After finishing the 
newsletter it had cooled down enough to venture out into the 
center of the city on foot in search of a good meal. We found 
what has to be the best restaurant in the city in the best hotel 
in town (which is not the one we were 
checking into). The ambiance and the food was very impressive 
and we have an exquisite meal including a local ice cream dish 
that was great. We strolled back to the room where we made ready 
to bed down for the night. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the 
leftovers from Hiroko's work class ahi tuna dinner went to a 
very cute feral kitten that resided at the hotel where we were 
staying. Lucky kitty! I forced myself to stay up until past 
10:00 PM in the hope that I will sleep past 4:00 AM.

It was another day of my doing all the driving. Day one to San 
Diego was 550 miles. Day two to Tucson was 450 miles. Day three 
to San Carlos was roughly 350 miles and day four would be only 
about 250 miles. There has been no strain on my body whatsoever 
from the traveling and the driving of more than 1,500 miles so 
far since we left home. I have finally begun to take some 
picture this day and need to find the time to sort through them 
and get them up on the website to accompany the words. Good 
night!


Thu. 9/4/08:

Today completely changed my perception of Northern Mexico 
forever. Perhaps I have been to Tijuana too many times or have 
seen the poverty and squalor that surrounds areas like Cabo, 
Acapulco or Mexico City. We entered Mexico at High Noon today at 
the truck crossing in Nogales. We got good advice 
that going through Central Nogales would be too congested and we 
literally just breezed through the bureaucracy of securing out 
tourist visas. Did you know if you go beyond the State of Senora 
to the South you are required to buy a tourist visa for $23.50 
per person? It is good for six months as is our Mexican car 
insurance, so Baja here we come in February, while the visas, 
insurance and temporary vehicle import permit (yet another fee 
if you venture much beyond the border areas).

Unlike the first two days, where we alternated driving every 
ninety minutes, I did all the driving today (all 6.5 hours) to 
traverse the roughly 350 miles from Tucson to San Carlos, which 
is just outside the town of Guyamas. We ventured off the major 
toll road en route and drove through a very delightful town 
called Magdalena. This really turned my head around. Not a speck 
of litter could be seen on the streets. There were shops, 
restaurants and beautiful homes with manicured gardens and 
landscaping and neatly attired people everywhere. Of course, 
everyone I smiled at returned the universal gesture of hello. 
Yes, this stop over for a roadside snack was an eye opener. I 
may never look at Mexico the same way again and this is only day 
one in country!

Perhaps what surprised me most today was how the bureaucrats and 
government employees were quite pleasant and easy to deal with. 
At 31 Km into Mexico we had to get our vehicle permit and the 
process, albeit cumbersome (go here, present your papers, go 
there and pay to have copies made of your tourist visa, car 
registration and passport and return to get your vehicle permit 
for about US $35). No big woof!

Looking out the window of our Best Western motel room here in 
San Carlos we can see the beach and the Sea of Cortez right 
across the street. We had dinner at a place across the street 
(on the water) called Charlie's Rock. The entrˇe was just okay, 
but the smoked marlin taco appetizer was to die for. The best 
part of the meal was the very friendly pooch that made our 
acquaintance. Time to crash and get some sleep. I think this 
adventure is going to get a lot better. Tomorrow we are headed 
for a small town that is a midpoint between here and Mazatlan. I 
have a few photos I need to upload to the website when I get a 
chance. Adios!

Wed. 9/3/08:

4:25 AM- Well, it was another early rising morning, up at just 
past 4:00 AM. I hope this does not become a regular routine for 
me. Fortunately, we are moving Eastward, so if I do get up at 
the same time every day it will be 7:00 AM when we are in Oaxaca 
as they are at least three hours later than we are in CA. I 
could have re-loaded the car and left before 6:00 AM again, but 
promised my sister we'd go to breakfast with her and her husband 
Ray before heading out. It would be nice if we could hit Tucson 
early enough to do some touring of the city. We remember how 
nice it was many years ago when we did a bicycle tour of 
downtown Tucson and the University of Arizona campus.

It took longer than expected to get out of San Diego. Let's not 
go there. We hit the road at 8:40 AM after gassing up, and 
filling our internal fuel tanks and bought an emergency road kit 
for tire punctures just in case. It was a worthwhile $9.69 
investment I thought. We stopped in El Centro, CA to switch 
driving positions and I got out of the car and the heat took my 
breath away. At 10:00 AM it was already 99 degrees in the high 
desert east of San Diego in someplace without any stores called 
Tacna, CA. We stopped for gas later on in what looked like a 
very old and boring little town called Gila Bend, AZ and 
found the cheapest gas so far at $3.69 per gallon. It was 104 
there at 11:45 AM. I don't think Gila Monsters would live in 
this desolate place.

We pulled into Tucson tired and ready to relax. Of course I had 
some work to do, so I was into the computer after we moved the 
vital stuff (stuff we cannot bear to have stolen out of the car 
during the night) and then I got into the computer and did my 
thing. We went out to dinner at a delightful Guatemalan 
restaurant named Maya Quetzal. It was authentic and awesome. 
After dinner I bought Obama's book "The Audacity of Hope" and 
hope to finish it on this trip. 

Tomorrow morning we will cross the international border (we saw 
more border patrol officers today than we have in our entire 
lives to date driving here from San Diego. We will enter Mexico 
at Nogales and will have our first interaction with the 
governmental folks to get out tourist visas and temporary 
vehicle importation permit. Tomorrow we will bed down in a small 
town called San Carlos in the Sanoran Desert on the Sea of 
Cortez that separates the Baja from the mainland of Mexico. I'm 
bushed and need to go to sleep. It has been a long day and we 
have driven a total of just under 1,000 miles in two days. 
Yikes! It's 10:00 PM local time. Goodnight!

Tue. 9/2/08:

5:52 AM- Rolled out of the garage and headed for a very long 
first day's drive to San Diego (550 miles). I was up and wired 
at 4:00 AM. Spending the night with family in SD and looking 
forward to getting an early start first thing Wednesday morning 
to head to Tuscon, AZ to spend night two. Travel plans have 
changed several times in the past ten days. Original agenda had 
us going to Needles, CA the first night and on to Albuquerque 
the second night en route to Dallas on business, but that was 
the first big change.

We got "clipped" at a Mobil station just before going up the 
Grapevine to LA paying $4.29 per gallon when just down the road 
there were stations with gas under $4.00 per gallon. We must 
have been drawn in by the Starbucks sign at the freeway off 
ramp. Mobil must have correctly figured out many people (like 
us) needed to gas up before going over the Grapevine, so they 
took advantage of the situation with people not knowing there 
was much cheaper gas only a mile or two down the road. There 
were no other competing gas stations there, just two Mobil 
stations and from the freeway they made it look as though there 
was a truck stop there with another competing brand, but there 
wasn't. Ask me if I will buying Mobil gas again on this or any 
other trip unless I absolutely must?

Made record time getting to San Diego at 2:30 PM. The drive 
through LA was surprisingly light. Never before have I driven 
completely through downtown LA at the speed limit all the way to 
Orange County before an accident and rubber-neckers slowed 
things down briefly.

We had a great Italian dinner at an Italian restaurant with the 
improbable name of The Godfather. We had a very entertaining 
waiter that talked as though he just got off the boat. The food 
was great only the portions were way too large for us. 
Considering the size of the portions, the prices were very 
reasonable.

We have an open agenda for the initial phase of the trip (after 
Tucson) with our planned arrival in Oaxaca on September 15th.