Nights in the city

 This will be our third night in Oaxaca city. The room we had reserved, at the Leon el Cid Hotel right in the centro, the old city, is pretty funky. The hotel has only eight rooms. This one seems to go by several different names. On their website it's called Up in the Clouds, on booking.com it has another name, and the staff here calls it the glamping room. It's up on the roof, the third floor, up several different staircases. It has a huge bed, a loft with another bed right above it, and several sofas and chairs. The minute we arrived the staff showed us a message on google translate that said it is very hot during the day, and cold at night. There is no ac. We can switch you to another room." We looked at both rooms, decided to give Up in the Clouds a try. It was indeed very hot in the afternoon. And the room has a bunch of idiosychrocies and design problems. But the view of the city is spectacular. After the first night we decided we'd give it another try. Now it is our third day here and we are still here. The weather today is significantly cooler. Which was great for both being in our abode and also when we were out and about. It's a very walkable city, but still draining in the heat. Right now it's raining, for the first time in our entire trip. We've hardly even seen any clouds. Which is okay while we are ensconsed here, but could be a nuisance in an hour or two when we head out for dinner. 

So far we have visited three museums, two of them small and free, and the other one, the Museum of Oaxacan Culture, enormous and overwhelming. We spent a couple of hours there and don't think we saw everything, but it was enough. Loring has less of a tolerance for museum visiting than I do, but I had also had my fill. The museum is connected to the impressive   Templo de Santo Domingo Guzman church, and was once its convent. There are long hallways around a central courtyard on several floors, and many small rooms, some of which must have been the nuns' quarters. It was a little disorienting, we had trouble remembering which corridors we'd already been down.We started on the top floor, which in retrospect was a mistake. That usually works well for us in museums, but not in this one. It turns out thata the most important and impressive works were on the second floor, and by the time we got to them we were exhausted. The most important pieces were from the archeological site of Mt. Alban, which is about a half hour drive from the city. We plan to go there tomorrow. From looking at pictures and the museum this seems to be a very important site, Zapotec rather than Aztec or Mayan. And I had never heard of it until now. The most impressive finds are in the museum, the most striking of which is a skull encrusted with turquoise mosaic. But there are rooms full of pottery and stonework and much more. 

We visited the attached church first, and were lucky we did. I noticed a sign among all those reminding people that this was a religious site, not a museum, and that people needed to be respectful. And another sign, on a sandwich board, saying that the church would be closed whenever there was an event going on. I'm not sure if that included services. No sooner had a noticed the sign than a man picked it up and moved it in front of the rear door where we were standing. If we had been even five minutes later we wouldn't have been able to get in. Although we are here almost a week, so I'm sure we would have been able to visit later. But other people visiting for a shorter time period might not have been able to. 

The interior of the church was very impressive, different from any other church I can remember visiting. The walls and ceiling are all covered in gold gilt, and just glow. In various places there are images of what I assume are saints. But they are three dimensional, jutting out from the walls and ceiling. 

When we were in the museum we heard and could seen an organist playing the ubiquitous wedding march. They seemed to be practicing, perhaps checking the sound. And when we left the museum some time later, the bride and entourage were arriving and entered the church. Pretty nice for our first full day. 

The night before, from our aerie, we heard music. Out on the balcony we could see a parade, with dancers, musicians, huge papier mache figures being carried, and some people holding large balloon-like globes with writing. They said something about the 113th anniversary of something. I didn't understand the word, but when I looked it up later it was the anniversary of some military event. That's the last thing I would have expected. We did see a few jeeps and guys in uniform, but it was the least similar thing to a military parade I have ever seen. How nice. 

We left the hotel to find a restaurant, thinking we'd seen the entire event from our rooftop. Far from it. The parade ended at a nearby park. For the next hour or more there were bands playing, women and men dancing, those huge puppets, and just a generally festive atmosphere. Some people were dancing with each other, with their children, by themselves. It was a wonderful way to start our visit here. 

We eventually chose a restaurant just at the edge of the park. We tried deciphering the menu, but many items didn't translate. Loring had chile rellenos, always a favorite of ours from our days in New Mexico.They are green chile peppers, in our experience stuffed with cheese. But these were stuffed with meat. They were delicious. I had a dish that consisted of tortillas and shredded chicken in a mole sauce. I think of mole being made with chiles and spices and chocolate. But there are in fact many different mole sauces. I am guessing this one did have chocolate, from the color more than the taste. It was good but a little heavy on the sauce. 

Last night we ate at a place recommended by someone on his blog, which gave extensive recommendations by category, from cheap eats to fancy splurges to newer fusion restaurants. It was about a ten or fifteen minute walk from our place. It was described as having some of the best authentic cooking. I was surprised when we got there, it was a small unassuming place up a flight of stairs. I'd worried that we might need reservations on a Saturday night. Not so. There were a couple of other occupied tables, of about a dozen total.  Again, it was hard to know about many of the items. I did see grasshoppers on the menu and didn't feel adventurous enough to try them. They are very common, we saw piles of them in the market today. I thought at first they were small dried red peppers. I still might give them a chance. It's funny how culturally bound our food preferences are. We still talk about the time I tried a guinea pig in Peru, where it is a delicacy. It came belly up, the entire little creature, on a plate. There was no way I wasn't going to eat it and offend the restaurant owners. However, I did once decline the offer of the eye of a sheep in Morocco, which is considered a great honor. I still feel bad about it, more than a half century later. 

Well, back to present times. The other museums we visited were the stamp museum and the textile museum, both fairly small and both free. We didn't know quite what to expect at the stamp museum, but it was free and we were walking right by.  What really interested me was a couple of rooms with art made from stamps, stamp mosaics, if you will. And there was a small room that was some kind of office, where some of the furntiture was covered with stamps. 

The textile museum had an exhibit of one artist's work, which consisted of small pieces stitched in black on what looked like off white linen. They were interesting and unusual. Nothing was described in English, and the text was too much for me to try to translate. But I did see a reference to Annie Albers, whose work I know as someone who had a great influence on elevating fiber art in the mid twentieth century. And there was also a mention of the artist having spent some time in Oakland, CA, in fairly recent years. I may try to get more info on the artist later  on. 

The rest of the museum featured incredible embroidered garments from various parts of I believe just the state of Oaxaca.  Each village has its own style and tradition.  

We continued from the textile museum to a couple of the famous markets, featuring both food and handicrafts. Along the way we stumbled upon a whole orchestra set up in a park, with chairs set up for audience and many other people standing around. It's Sunday, and the park was filled with people and families with children, many balloon sellers, several shoe shine guys, one just at the edge of the orchestra, each seemingly oblivious of the other. There was one little boy sitting in a chair beside his musician father, playing games on a cellphone as if there was no orchestra at all.  

I browsed through one of the craft markets, for at least a half hour while Loring sat on a bench conveniently located at the center of the market. He was right in front of a woman weaving something small, maybe bracelets, the entire time. When I returned she had her phone propped up  in front of her work, watching a movie I think. She was also talking with another woman who was behind her in the booth. Interesting juxtaposition.  There was also a marimba band playing right next to him for part of the time. I appreciate his good nature in letting me browse for a while. I looked at a lot of crafts, embroidered blouses for me, and wall hanging for a potential housewarming present for Max and Michel for their new house. They just signed papers a couple of days ago. I didn't buy anything, but told at least a half dozen vendors I would consider buying and might come back later. But I didn't. There are so many vendors, how do any of them make any money with so much competition. And that doesn't even include all the street vendors who walk up and down the streets and around the parks with items of various kinds, from clothing to wooden spoons to beaded necklaces, to snacks of many kinds? 

By the way, we did find the Ventura family in the alejibre village of St. Martin, on our way here from the coast. But that requires a post of its own, so I will stop here and recount that adventure in my next post. 

Bate, Bate, Chocolate

That title is from a children's chant I came across years ago and incorporated into the multilingual program I designed for young kids. It's about beating the hot chocolate, with a utensil called a molinillo./when I first got it I thought it was a musical instrument, like a rattle. And when I asked kids to guess what it was they usually guessed that too.  It's a wooden implement, similar to a whisk. I have one at home that I also used in the program. These many years later, I still remember the chant. It's like things from my own elementary school Spanish classes, like a tacky poem about the American flag that I can still recite. It starts with Roja, blanca, y azul, que bonito es mi bandera. I'll spare you the rest. 

I wonder if any of the kids I had in my program in Beverly still remember the chocolate chant, or any of the other elements of the program. I hope so. The main part of the program consisted of using familiar children's books, Where the Wild Things Are, Goodnight Moon, and The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I chose them for their lyrical repititive qualities more than their renown, although that is also part of the reason they are such classics. I firmly believe in the use of music and rhythm and rhyme as a key part of language learning. I collected copies of the three books in as many languages I could find, and especially of Wild Things since the main character is named Max. I think I have it in about eight different languages, Spanish, French, German, Japanese, Dutch, a few more. 

But back to Mexican chocolate. It is different from other chocolate.  It has cinnamon in it. It may have other things too. I tried to find some unsweetend chocolate in the supermarket but couldn't. All the chocolate they had was sweetened and meant for hot chocolate. They did have some eating chocolate but it was not Mexican, was brands like Lindt and Hersheys.  The reason I wanted unsweetened Mexican chocolate is because I have been making my own mocha blend at home, half coffee and half unsweeted chocolate, put thru the French press. I've become quite fond of it. 

So, I wound up getting the Mexican table chocolate (that's what they call it) a brand called Abuelita. (little grandma.) That's me, I guess. The illustration of abuelita is remarkably similar to Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire.  It comes in a large tablet, serrated into 8 sections with the letters ABUELITA .  Cute. I was dissappointed to see it's owned by Nestle, though. 

So, every morning here I've been making my mocha with a cup of coffee and a section of Abuelita heated in the microwave. But the chocolate doesn't seem to quite melt  no matter how much I stir it. Which made me think, that's why you need the molinillo. Sure enough, as I read the package more carefully it specifically says it's best to stir it with a molinillo. Only problem, that won't work with a single mug, it's too big. And there isn't one in our kitchen here anyway.  The directions are more for making a quantity, a liter I think. Or maybe it will work with one of my large mugs and  molinillo at home. I'll have to try.

I've tried nibbling at the edge of the chocolate. It's not reallly meant or good for eating as a bar. The taste is good but it's very granular. Maybe there will be some Mexican bar chocolate in the big city, Oaxaca. We are heading there tomorrow for our last week in the country. 

So, this is our last night here in Estahuite beach. It's been much like the others. Breakfast in our apartment, eggs or yogurt and granola with bananas. Except for two days when we had breakfast at one of the beach restaurants. We had lunch, our usual shrimp ceviche with guacamole and tostadas, after a couple of hours lounging on the beach and playing in the water. Then  another couple of hours on the beach, and back here late afternoon. Tonight we'll pack, play cards, and read after eating up as much of the food we have left. Crackers, cheese, more avocados, cookies, rum and soda. Will probably take some of the leftovers with us and leave what we can't use for the two women who are the caretakers/housekeepers here. 

We will drive back to Oaxaca, leaving the car at the airport and then taxi into town.  Several years ago, at one of our salons, we had two Oaxacan woodcarvers, father and son, do a demonstration of their work at our house. They brought along a bunch of their delightful animal carvings, which are known as alejibres. There are towns around Oaxaca city that each specialize in a certain kind of handicraft that has been handed down through generations. The town that the Venturas are from is right on the way to Oaxaca so we hope we can find them. The father, Fabian, has since died, but Norberto, the son, and his wife continue the tradition.  I think he still comes to Massachussetts each October to help celebrate Dia de los Muertoss, and demonstrate and sell their work. 

This should be the last post from our beach sojourn, unless something extraordinary happens tonight!  More from the city in a few days. 

Oh, here's the whole Bate Chocolate chant:

Uno dos tres, cho, uno dos tres, co, uno dos la, uno dos tres, te. 

Bate, bate, chocolate! 

(using both hands to mime the action of twirling the molinillo to mix the hot chocolate in the pot.)

Let's Have a Party!

 As I've previously described, our days are very simple and similar, 4 or 5 hours on the beach, a meal while there, toes in the sand, a few dips in the ocean. And lots of reading, on the beach, in the hammock, on the verandah. And a few trips into town for groceries and cash. Very relaxing. 

Except for one day, several days ago. We'd watched from our porch as a truck made its way down the dirt road below our house and then unloaded lots of folding chairs. Obviously some kind of event in the works. On Sunday afternoon as we came back from the beach, there were tables set up, with pink tablecloths, on what was otherwise the dirt road. And then, people arrived and sat, and meals in styrofoam dishes and were distributed by a woman in a slinky dress. 

It was a birthday party. For a three year old girl. We saw her, running around in a fancy long dress. The woman handing out the meals was her mother. A band was setting up. And then a clown appeared, with a painted face and purple wild wig, and enormous shoes, of course. He turned out to be the mc, doing first activities with the kids, who'd lined up  their chairs in a row at his direction. There were contests of various kinds. One involved three pairs of boys and girls who were instructed to dance together and then the boys were supposed to toss the girl into the air. It was pretty strange, a little uncomfortable but also funny. 

 At some point the little girl was seated in a chair with her parents beside her. She was presented with a crown, which wouldn't stay on her head, and then with some gifts and finally a bouquet of flowers presented by a boy of perhaps five or six.

We watched it all, from above on our verandah. Loring had a translation program that converted the clown's words into English which sometimes made sense and sometimes didn't.

Later, there were some activities directed by the clown with adult participation. One involved three women who consequetively pretended to chase and then beat the clown with some kind of whisk.  Again, pretty weird and rather uncomfortable, for us at least.  

Then, a pinata. Of course. It was in the shape of the number three. There were people above holding a rope on either end and pulling it up and down.  And then a second pinata. And a third.  Both kids and adults whacked at them. I couldn't see what any of the pinatas spilled out but everyone, kids and adults, went for whatever it was. 

There was, finally, music. The band had been there all the while, a keyboard, guitar, singer, maybe another musician that we couldn't see because of the coconut palm between the partygoers and us. 

Gradually, some people got up to dance, some couples but more women than men, dancing alone or together. They played a few songs, and some people began to say their goodbyes and head out. We thought the party was over but the band continued to play and people continued to dance. The clown came back out and danced around with a tray filled with cake, handing it out and coming back with more, several times. 

At the side of this dirt road turned event venue was a partially completed house that we'd noticed from the first day, with three wall but an open front, an open suitcase filled with clothes, and what looked like a large plastic doghouse, or maybe a small kids' playhouse.  It was definitely inhabited. But for this night it was part of the party. We never found out where the birthday girl and family were from, right in this village, or really assortment of houses, or how far away. And also don't know if this is typical for a three year old's birthday. It seemed pretty elaborate. And that was our entertainment for one evening. instead of the reading, rum, and gin rummy for our usual evenings' entertainment here. 

Another observation: there are a number of partly constructed houses on the hillside here. But almost none have been undergoing construction while we are here. We don't know if they are houses that people are building as they have the money to do so, or places that have been started but never finished. Maybe a combination. We wonder if the new highway from Oaxaca has had the effect of people building up the area as has happened in so many places. There's a sign opposite our house that we at first thought was advertising a new development, with pictures of the beach and some buildings. But Loring used his translation app and took a photo of the sign and it turned out to be just the opposite, talking against development. 

That's it for tonite. It's starting to get dark and I can't see the keyboard anymore and anytime the little bugs I can't see but sure can find and bite me are about to come out. 

Hasta luego. 

Days of Easy Rhythms

Our days fall into an easy rhythm. Breakfast in our apartment, or rather on our verandah. Usually yogurt with a banana and granola. Some days, though, a couple of eggs or scrambled egg sandwich. And yesterday, breakfast at one of the beach restaurants. At about 10am, after reading the newspaper, ( can't throughly escape from the real world) we head down to the beach. The choice - which beach of three that we can walk to. And then, which restaurant. There are three or four on the close beach, a couple more on the further beach which is still very close. But we can't figure out where one restaurant ends and the next begins. The chairs and tables are all similar, as are the umbrellas. Even the menus are nearly identical. So we just try to choose different tables every day and hope we are choosing all of them in turn. We either have an early lunch or a late one on the beach, And our other meal we have in the apartment, either cheese and bread or crackers, proscuitto for the first few days until we finished it. Or, if we've had the earlier lunch on the beach, usually egg and cheese burritos for supper. The cheese is either queso blanco, a mild salty white cheese, or queso de Oaxaca, also a white mild cheese. We actually eat egg and cheese burritos at home for supper fairly often. So although it's Mexican, it's also from our own home culture at this poiont. I''m actually not sure if here in Mexico they make egg and cheese burritos. I should try to find out. For our early or late lunch on the beach, the choices are fish, shrimp, or octopus. You can have them cooked a variety of ways. I believe I've had shrimp most every day, except one or possibly two. There's shrimp salad( with mayo) shrimp cocktail(in a tomato sauce but not like at home with ketchup and horseradish.) and ceviche. The ceviche is "cooked" with lime juice, although I think they might poach it first. And served with lots of tomato, onion, and I think cilantro. A little spicy but not very. Everything comes with a basket of tostadas, flat baked or fried tortillas, They are similar to what we call hard tacos at home, but not folded. I believe the taco shells we buy at home are TexMex and not really Mexican at all. And nowadays the taco shells they serve in restaurants in the US. tend to be the soft ones. I've settle on shrimp ceviche plus guacamole as my beach meal of choice. Load it all up on a tostado and add some fresh lime juice and hot sauce and yum. A couple of evenings we've gone to a restaurant off the beach, just next door to our apartment. We've been practically the only customers, one other table but we think they are actually family. One night we had a whole fish, red snapper, which was enough for the two of us. It was delicious but the skin was a bit too charred for our taste. So last night we ordered the same kind of fish, but al vapor. (steamed.) There were more tostadas than we could eat, and he told us to take the rest home. The waves here are gentle, a constant lulling whether we are on the beach or here on the verandah. After a while I don't consciously notice the sound anymore, like a clock ticking in your house that you are so used to that you don't even hear it. But I think the lulling sound has a calming effect anyway. same for the view. I am a timid swimmer, actually don't really swim at all, more float along with the waves. I never learned to swim as a child, and maybe that's why. I took a swimming class in grad school. I am comfortable when the surf is very gentle as it is here, and the water is not over my head. It took me a few days to feel comfortable in the water by myself while Loring went off on one of his long swims. Now i feel comfortable floating around and listening to music on my much loved underwater mp3 player. my current playlist includes some Blondie, some Joni Mitchell, and a few songs with water themes like Crosby Stills Nash, and Young's Wooden Ships. And also Bruce Springsteen from the Seeger Tapes, a song called Oh Mary Don't You Weep, with its "Pharoh's Army Got Drowned"/ lyrics. A bit of irony. And, my alltime favorite underwater song, a piece from Cirque de Soleil's O, which is entirely performed in and underwater, and think is one of the best performances I've ever seen. I don't like swimming, don't feel comfortable in open water, and yet I love being in the water. The only exercises I truly enjoy are in the water, aqua aerobics, aquas zumba, aqua cycle, and an oddly named La Blast Splash, a licensed aqua dance program with great music and a delightful teacher. And, and I find this hard to believe myself, I took a scuba course some years ago, got licensed, along with our kids who were pretty young at the time, on a beach on an island in Nicaragua called Little Corn Island. And I liked it. I actuallly felt calmer deep in the water with a tank than I ever felt on the surface. Strange. Sadly, though, none of us ever continued diving. But I am glad I did it. Today I went out deeper than any day here, with Loring beside me. Maybe tomorrow I'll venture even further or at least further away from him. We shall see. We only have three more days here, so it's soon, or never!

What we've been reading

Whenever we travel we try to find books that reflect or take place in the environment we are visiting. For this trip we have about a half dozen. One was a series of vignettes that took place in Oaxaca, written in 1924 by DH Lawrence. It's called Morning in Mexico I read that first and found it interesting but didn't think Loring would like it. Loring first read a graphic novel called Death in Oaxaca that we didn't realize at first was a graphic novel. I havent' yet read it but will. He, then I, read a novel called Lost in Oaxaca. He said, and I agree, that it wasn't great literature but a fun read because of the locale. I'd classify it as chick lit, you know, when you can tell on the first pages that'she's going to fall for the handsome Mexican she thinks she hates. And then there's the Oliver Sacks one, Oaxaca Journal. I'm a big fan of his and have read many of his books. Loring, not so much. But this one was not about psychiatric conditions like his famous Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat, and others. It was actually about hunting for ferns in Oaxaca with a group of fern enthusiasts and experts. Yes you read that right, ferns. He apparently was part of a group that met regularly at the Bronx Botanical Gardens. A man of many interests. Loring has already read, and I am now reading, a book called Land Without a Continent. The author is Matt Savino. He drives overland from California down thru Mexico, visiting some of the places we've been and are going. He's very funny and observant, and self deprecating. I think it may be self published. I think there's only one more of our local interest literature, which actually isn't local to Oaxaca, but is a novel by a well known Mexican writer. I just read a review of her newest book in the Boston Globe. But the one I bought was a previous one. Her name is Cristina Rivera Garza. and book is Liliana's Invincible Summer. I had not heard of her previously, but thought it was a good time to discover a new Mexican writer. I'll let you know what I think of it after I've read it. I also continue to read the Boston Globe daily, although maybe a bit less thoroughly. It's easy to distance oneself somewhat but not entirely from events in the real world. As I read various stories I wonder how much the style and content of what I am reading influences my perceptions and observations. Driving here I notice, for instance the black trunks and branches of certain trees. I don't think I've ever noticed that before. Are they different trees or am I influenced by the precise details and observations of a writer like D.H. Lawrence or Oliver Sacks? And do the anecdotes of Matt in Land Without a Continent heighten my awaremeness of the amusing aspect of certain situations, like the 17 empty beer bottles on the table of a couple on the beach, or the two young women posing repeatedly in the shallow water, doubtless soon to be posted on some social medium?

The road here

I'll backtrack a bit and describe the drive here. We flew into Oaxaca but didn't go into the city. Stayed the first night at a hotel just south of the airport, toward the coast.  It was nothing special but fine. I think we were the only ones staying there, and it took about ten minutes for us to get the guy to come open the door to the courtyard parking and our room. Room number one. We asked if we could get a drink and the guy said he'd have to go out and get us a bottle and some soda water.  He said he'd send out "the kid" but we'd have to give him the money for him to buy it. He looked like a kid himself but guess this was a younger kid. He came back with a large bottle of Bacardi, a large bottle of club soda, and a huge bag of ice. We only used a small portion of the ice, left it sitting in the sink, and most of it was still there in the morning. I hope they had a use for it. 

We drove here on the "new" road which only opened a couple of years ago. But it had been under construction for fifteen years. On the old road, which is actually shorter in distance, the trip would take about five or six hours. This took about three. 

The first part of the drive there was a lot of traffic and a lot of businesses, many hotels and small restaurants. We stopped at one for breakfast. I had been looking forward to some kind of Mexican breakfast, huevos rancheros or something like that. But they didn't have eggs. It was more of a cafe than a breakfast place. They had crepes and pastries and all kinds of coffees and lattes, not exactlly what I'd been anticipating. I had banana nutella crepes, a huge plate and really good although not very Mexican. Loring had the only real Mexican item on the menu. It was chilaquiles, a mound of crisp tortillas covered with cheese and chicken and sauce.  The crisp flat tortllas seem to be the common thing here, rather than soft ones. We've been served them in restaurants and bought them packaged in the supermarket. 

After a while the traffic and commerce thinned out. The road was twisty and downhill. We were going from an altitude of about 6000 to sea level. After about the first hour we began to come across areas where there were washouts and where crews were working to repair the road and reinforce the embankments with netting and concrete. It continued intermittently to the coast. We thought there had to have been serious flooding and looked it up later. There had indeed been major looding not that long ago, about four months  ago back in October. 

We are now on our fifth night here.  The other three apartments have been occupied but we have only seen the folks staying next door to us. They have been here about ten days but left today. The other folks have cars and must still be here. A funny thing, a couple of nights ago a man opened the door and began to walk in, then realized he was in the wrong apartment and got very flustered and apologetic and left. So I guess we have seen  one of the other guests.

 Our days here have been simple and relaxing. We did have to drive about twenty minutes to a town with a working ATM a few days ago after the one in the nearest place was broken. Other than that, it's been up about 6am, just before dawn, not such a different schedule from at home. Then a couple of hours reading the Boston Globe or our books. Then breakfast. Sometime later in the morning down to the beach, just a dozen or so steps down. Choice of the two beaches here, separated by a outcropping of rocks with a path cut between them. Decision between early lunch here at the apartment , then early dinner about 4pm on the beach. Or late lunch on the beach, about 2pm, and light dinner back at the apartment. Our meals have been a ll fish or seafood. Lots of shrimp. All with rice and salad and flat crisp tortillas. 

Hola Mexico!

This is our third day of a three week sojourn in Mexico, and tonight will be our second night at Casa Delphin in the small area near Estacahuite, which is near Puerto Angel. It's not even a village, really, more an area on a small cove with several homes and hotels, and several beach restaurants. Casa Delphin is a four apartment building a short walk above the beach. It's just the kind of place we like to stay, fairly quiet and with calm and swimmable water. The folks on the beach are mostly local, largely day trippers as far as we can tell. 

The restaurants are all on the sand, with a half dozen or so tables with umbrellas. It's hard to know where one restaurant stops and the next starts. Yesterday we moved a chair over to our table and the woman came out and explained that chair belonged to the next restaurant over! 

 We've just eaten at that one place so far. And get this:  last night we only had 350 pesos. The places don't take credit cards, and the ATM in the village was broken, not uncommon, we gather. So I explained to the woman, or thought I had, how much money we had. I had asked for a filet of fish, but then changed it to ceviche. But she brought out both. When it came time to pay, I explained again that we only had so much in pesos. I was ready to give her dollars just as a deposit until we could get more money today. But she just said we could pay her the next day. And we did, today, And we felt compelled to eat there again today, and give her a big tip. So we had ceviche again, always a favorite since our times in Peru. But it's made differently here, actually it's different everyplace. Always marinated, in lime juice. In Peru it's served with sweet potatoes and corn. Here it is with onion, tomato, avocado, And cilantro. And the fish or seafood can vary. Yesterday's was mixto, shrimp and octopus. Today we asked for just shrimp. So much shrimp!. We shared a large plate. It's served with tacos, hard flat ones, which seem popular here. Loring had them as the base for his chilequile breakfast the other day on our way here from Oaxaco city. And they're sold in packages in the grocery store. 

So much, though, for my stated intention to take it easy foodwise for at least the first few days, to make sure my stomach was cooperating. And then I go and have raw fish two days in a row. 

The beach restaurants close early, surprisingly. Our neighbors here at the Casa told us to be aware that they do, and sure enough, they started taking down the umbrellas at about 4pm. 

Today we went to the nearby town of Pochutla where google maps said there were multiple ATMs. It's about a 20 minute drive from here. No trouble finding one, and there were at least three large supermarkets as well. So we stocked up on some items we hadn't been able to find yesterday at the more local store. Now we have yogurt, granola, bananas, grapefruit, melon, several cheeses, crackers, bread, eggs. butter. Our plan is to have breakfast at home, a large meal at one of the restaurants, and a snack or light meal either noon or evening. An interesting observation about packaged food at the supermarket: packages are labeled as high sugar or high fat when appropriate. I'm not sure how much attention people pay to that, but it's one way that Mexico seems ahead of the U.S. in food labelling. 

The water has been fairly calm here, and it's been full of people, adults and kids, frolicking and staying in the water for hours, it seems. 

So, so far, so good. We are settling in to a daily rythm and will be here about two weeks before heading to Oaxaca city for our last week. We hear there's a street parking ban going into effect back at home in anticipation of the next storm. Glad we'll be missing it.